


My Head Is Bowed

by Mysenia



Series: Tumblr Prompt Fills 2015 [23]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Peter Hale, Alpha Sheriff Stilinski, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Anxiety Attacks, Anxiety Disorder, Asexual Character, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Omega Stiles Stilinski, Panic Attacks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-23
Updated: 2017-02-08
Packaged: 2018-04-23 02:10:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 25,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4859150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mysenia/pseuds/Mysenia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>By the time Stiles reached the age of 18 he was well past his notions of a good mating and a tolerable Alpha. He may have been born an Omega but that was where all of his attractions began and ended.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> Anonymous asked: For the prompt thing (if you want). A/B/O in a universe Stiles is a spastic clumsy Omega prone to anxiety attacks and has a family history of mental illness. He never expected any Alpha would ever be interested in him because of the potentially faulty genetics and his personality. He never expects to somehow catch the attention of Peter Hale the Alpha every omega in town is after but hasn't been able to catch.
> 
> I will be updating tags as I go. I don't expect this to be more than 5 chapters, but we shall see.
> 
> A special thanks to [Dena](http://denaceleste.tumblr.com/) for brainstorming with me! She's helped me sketch out the entire fic, now I just need to put pen to paper and get the story written.

By the time Stiles reached the age of 18 he was well past his notions of a good mating and a tolerable Alpha. He may have been born an Omega but that was where all of his attractions began and ended.

He had had the unfortunate circumstance of being diagnosed with ADHD when he was around 6 years old, and while that may have dwindled his pool of suitors, it had not decimated it completely. For though most Alpha’s wanted a docile mate to stay home and tend to the pups, there were those few Alpha’s who wanted a little spirit in their Omega’s.

No, what had really set him apart and marked him for a life of loneliness and being shunned from society was when his mother passed away. She had been diagnosed with Frontotemporal Dementia and that had painted a black stain over Stiles’ eligibility. Unfortunately most Alpha’s wouldn’t tolerate a mate who could potentially pass on a sickness to their pups.

On his little shoulders had sat scorn and disgust, little jabs thrown his way from kids his age, and pitying looks from the adults ‘ _in the know_ ’. He had weathered it as best he could, trying to be strong for his parents so they wouldn’t have to worry about him on top of worrying about Claudia’s disease. He had even handled it quite well, until his mother passed away.

That’s when the anxiety had become too much and the attacks had set in. On top of trying to mourn for his mother and trying to take care for his father as the Omega in their household, he had also had to deal with the certainty that no Alpha would ever want him - his classmates had told him so.

That year, at the young age of 8, Stiles had become the town pariah - though the townsfolk were careful to keep it from reaching the Sheriff’s ears - and Stiles had had to come to terms with the knowledge that he would forever be a disappointment to his father and the memory of his mother.

Needless to say, on the eve of his 18th birthday, Stiles knew there would be no offers for his hand from potential Alpha mates. He was pretty isolated, not only being considered a defective Omega but also being the son of the Sheriff and he ranked in the unpopular crowd in school.

* * *

 

Sitting down to dinner, Stiles expected his father to let him down gently about spending his birthday dinner together when the man let out a big sigh. It had only happened once before as his father strove to spend as much holiday and special occasion time with him as possible, since he so often missed out on the day-to-day because of his job.

What did come out of his father’s mouth stunned him speechless.

“I’m sorry, can you repeat that please?” He asked, unable to close his mouth in his shock.

“Peter Hale is coming for dinner tomorrow, I hope that’s alright. We’ll make up your birthday dinner this weekend.” His father patted his hand where it rested limply on the table.

Unable to respond, Stiles simply nodded.

The rest of the dinner finished with his father talking about his day and Stiles dazedly listening. He ushered his father into the living room and sat him down with a mug of hot chocolate - the Sheriff said it helped him sleep but Stiles knew it just was his own way of remembering his late wife, and Omega, by drinking her favourite drink - and cleaned up dinner while his mind continued to process the information it had been given.

Once the dishes were cleaned he made his way to his father’s side, kneeling on the pillow placed beside his father’s seat on the floor, and rested his head against his father’s leg - a remnant of his younger days when his anxiety became bad and only his father stroking his hair as he knelt at his feet could calm him.

“Why?” He managed to croak out.

Peter Hale was the most sought after Alpha in Beacon Hills and all neighbouring towns. He came from a prestigious family and owned his own company. Not only that, he was the type of Alpha that exuded everything it meant to be an Alpha.

Stiles’ mind was a frazzled mess as it hurtled over everything he would have to get done just to have the Alpha in his home. There wasn’t time. Cleaning would eat up all of his time, and what of the food he was supposed to serve the Alpha?

The feeling of his father’s hand landing gently on his head instantly soothed the topmost panic. The warmth seeped down his spine and relaxed the tension that had locked his joints. Fingers carded through his hair, the silence clearing his mind, as his father finished his hot chocolate.

“He donates quite a bit of money to the station, as you know, but this year he won’t be able to make it to the yearly barbecue so I invited him around for dinner instead.” The Sheriff explained as he continued to pet Stiles’ head.

With his mind quieted, Stiles was able to sort his thoughts. “Okay, but why does he need to come tomorrow? On _my_ birthday?”

The Sheriff sighed for the second time that night. “Well he asked after you and we got to talking. You know it’s very polite of him to remember you even though he’s only met you once when you were younger.” He paused.

That was news to Stiles. He didn’t remember meeting the famed Alpha so he must have been very young indeed.

“Anyway, Jordan popped his head in and heard us talking about you and told me to wish you a happy birthday. Happy birthday from Jordan, by the way.” His father chuckled, amused with himself. “And well that intrigued Peter and he asked if he might join us for your birthday dinner.”

There was a reason Stiles avoided the station’s yearly barbecue, to rid himself of the chance of being around people like Peter Hale. Ever since he’d developed his anxiety, large crowds or important parties - such as the station barbecue where contributors were present - Stiles hadn’t been able to attend. There was too much pressure on him, not only as an omega but, as the Sheriff’s only son.

“I can feel you tensing up. Breathe.” His father’s hand moved from his hand to squeeze the back of Stiles’ neck.

Stiles huffed but let the rhythmic squeezing on his neck to steady his breathing. “How do you expect me to be fine in front of our guest tomorrow when even just the thought is making me feel ill?”

“Because you won’t be alone and leaving the room is always an option. You know this, we’ve talked about it before.”

Stiles did know but that didn’t make the anxiety any easier. “But y-you, I-I,” Stiles’ panic skyrocketed, the frustration that his father didn’t understand exasperating his anxiety.

The sheriff gently gripped the back of his neck and used his other hand to cup Stiles’ face and lift Stiles’ head to look at him. “Stiles, listen to my words.” Stiles gulped, his heart rabbiting away. “I will call Peter and reschedule for another time when you’re not around. It is alright, I swear.”

Red bled through his father’s eyes, the Omega instincts being soothed by the sight, and Stiles was able to breathe. He let the weight of his head rest in his father’s hands, exhaustion weighing him down.

He hated this feeling, a mixture of hopelessness and frustration tinged with fear. He also hated that he was disappointing his father. The man worked so hard and Stiles wished he could just do everything the Sheriff asked of him.

“Before you let your own thoughts drag you down, please remember this. I am not disappointed in you or upset. This was my fault, I sprung it on you. That wasn’t fair of me, I should have known better.” His father placed a kiss on the crown of his head. “I’m sorry.”

Those two words started the tears flowing but all Stiles felt was relief. He dealt with so many pressures outside his home, people judging him and telling him he was a bad Omega and that no Alpha would ever want him but his father would always want him. He would always have his father, the one person in his life who would always understand and love him.

His father sent him to bed not long after, Alpha orders to go to sleep. His father knew him well and he could only be grateful that the decision was taken out of his hands and his was able to just get into bed. Sleep came easy, the strength of his emotions exhausting him into deep slumber.

* * *

 

Stiles didn’t really like his birthdays, just more reminders of his mother missing in his life, but he did like it for the opportunity of pure one-on-one time with his father. They’d made a pact early on, not long after his mother died, that his father and him would spend special occasions with just the two of them.

With the stress of having an unexpected guest, the Alpha of Alpha’s Peter Hale, no longer joining them Stiles spent the day curled up watching movies with his father. The Sheriff made him popcorn and for dinner they ordered a little something from every one of Stiles’ favourite restaurants to be delivered.

It was the perfect day, or as perfect as it would ever get for Stiles, and after presents and cake - and his father cleaning up - Stiles went to sleep with all thoughts of Alphas clear out of his head.


	2. Part 2

Walking in the door from school the next day, Stiles contemplated answering the ringing phone but it had been a trying day and the thought of answering made his stomach churn. He let his backpack fall to the floor beside his shoes and he trudged his way to the kitchen, all the while keeping an ear listening for the answering machine, if it was his father he’d rush to pick it up - though the Sheriff was usually pretty good about only texting as he knew Stiles’ aversion to talking on the phone.

The machine clicked as Stiles opened the cupboard for food and he nearly brained himself on the corner of the door as the person leaving a message said their name.

     _“- Peter Hale. I’m calling to reschedule our dinner -”_

Stiles let the words flow over him as his heart race. On the one hand he could let the Alpha finish leaving a message and his father could return the call, or, he could answer it and reschedule with the Alpha himself. It would make his father proud. The voice was still talking to the machine as Stiles’ mind turned over the possibilities.

His heart beat hard in his chest as he took measured steps to the phone. His palms were sweating, moisture soaking through the material under his arms as his entire body buzzed. He reached for the phone, his hand closing around it just the answering machine clicked off.

Relief swept through him quickly followed by disappointment. Why couldn’t he answer the phone like any normal person? Any good Omega would be able to do it and it was yet further proof that he wasn’t a good Omega.

Stomach soured and shame burning through him, Stiles collected his backpack to do his homework. He could at least show his father that he’d accomplished something when the man walked through the door.

It was hours later, the sky darkened and the streetlights on, that Stiles was brought out of his concentration by the door opening. He glanced at the clock and then felt ill when he realised he had not prepared anything for dinner and his father had just walked in the door.

He heard footsteps on the stairs and cringed at the thought of having to tell the Sheriff there was nothing prepared for dinner. A knock sounded at his door and he slowly turned his chair to see his father smiling at him from the doorway.

The Sheriff took a step towards him but stopped himself as Stiles held up a hand.

     “Everything all right kiddo?”

     “I didn’t make anything for dinner.” Stiles admitted, head bowed. Good Omegas never forgot to feed their Alphas.

     “Alright.” His father’s voice was warm. “Where would you like to order from?”

     “No! We had takeout yesterday so we can’t have it today.” Stiles could feel his upset pouring off of him in waves.

     “How about,” His father start walking towards him. “You and I head to the grocery store to pick something up?” He patted Stiles’ head and carded his fingers through Stiles’ hair.

Stiles leaned into the touch as the tension left him. He would be able to grab something healthy to feed his Alpha and that made him happy.

It didn’t take them long to make it to the store and the Sheriff let Stiles take the cart and shop to his heart’s content.

This was his happy place, where he could see to his Alpha’s needs and make sure everything his father ate was healthy and home cooked. He was not allowed to cook on his birthday, and some days he really didn’t have the energy to cook, but every other day Stiles made sure they had healthy meals prepared.

He radiated contentment as he aimed for the things he wanted: lean ground beef, tomatoes, onions, parsley, mushrooms, and one of each coloured sweet pepper. They had multigrain pasta at home so all Stiles needed for spaghetti were the ingredients for sauce.

He was humming to himself as he tested the readiness of the peppers, his father browsing the fruits behind him, when he sensed someone watching him. Stiles let his senses reach out and when they touched upon an Alpha he recoiled as his heart started beating faster.

He could hear his father’s heartbeat, steady and calm, and he tried to focus on it as he ignored the Alpha that was watching him. The Alpha wasn’t coming closer, they were a good 20 paces back Stiles estimated, but it didn’t make him feel any better.

Stiles felt cornered by that gaze and he dared not look around for his father for fear of catching the Alpha’s eye. He felt frozen and knew his eyes were bleeding yellow in the encroaching panic. Black spots danced across his vision as his muscles locked, air escaping through clenched teeth. He could feel himself squishing the pepper he had in his hand but he didn’t feel in control and could not stop it from happening.

A whine squeezed its way out of his throat as he sensed the unknown Alpha taking a step towards him. The Alpha stopped but Stiles’ panic had already started.

The air wooshed out of him as he took a breath, gasping in little lungfuls that only just kept him from passing out. He clenched his eyes shut but opened them quickly as he swayed, lost to the sound of his rushing blood. His chest felt tight and his hands swollen.

Voices were flowing around him but only one managed to pierce his panic.

     “Stiles, breathe with me.”

His Alpha was in front of him, gripping his hands tight as red eyes bored into Stiles’ own yellow ones. His Alpha placed one of Stiles’ hands against his own neck as the other brought Stiles’ hand to his chest, the steady beating of his Alpha’s heart pounding through Stiles’ palm.

     “Breathe in one two three.” His father dragged in an exaggerated breath and held it. “Now out one two three.” He felt as the air steadily flowed out of his father’s airways.

Stiles was not sure how long they stayed like that, breathing together as Stiles calmed down, but when he looked around they only had an audience of one. He locked gazes with the Alpha he had sensed before and he felt himself flinching as his heart sped up.

     “No.” His father brought his head around to look at him, standing up to block out the sight of the other Alpha. “You look only at me.” The command rang through Stiles and he felt his world narrowing to just his father.

Bright red eyes bored into his own as Stiles entrusted his fear, panic, and safety to his Alpha. He felt his eyes closing tiredly but knew it was alright as his Alpha gathered him closer. He was engulfed in the scent of home and love, and Stiles burrowed in closer to his father’s chest.

The rumble of his father’s voice through his chest made Stiles smile. “I’m going to go talk to him. Do you want to come with me or stay here?”

Stiles didn’t want to be left alone so he grabbed onto one of his father’s hands, and the Sheriff kissed his head before turning to greet the other Alpha, Stiles tucked safely behind him.

“Hello Peter.” The Sheriff greeted and Stiles froze. He had not really had a proper chance to look at the Alpha so he peeked his head around his father’s shoulder.

Peter Hale studiously ignored him as Stiles observed him though Stiles could see a small smile playing at the edges of the Alpha’s mouth.

“Hello John.” Peter inclined his head towards the Sheriff before allowing his eyes to look at Stiles. “I’m sorry if I frightened you.” He said and Stiles could actually believe that he was sorry.

He stepped out from behind the Sheriff, knuckles white as he squeezed his father’s hand. _It_ _wasn’t your fault_ passed through his mind before Stiles thought better of it. “I’m alright now.” He said instead, eyes flittering to Peter’s eyes and away again.

“Do you forgive me?” Peter asked and Stiles felt his cheeks heat up. What did it matter if Stiles forgave him or not? Stiles was just an Omega, Peter had no business seeking forgiveness from someone so lowly as him.

Silence descended as the Sheriff and Peter waited for his answer so Stiles squeaked out a “Yes.”, because it truly wasn’t the Alpha’s fault that Stiles panicked easily, and the smile Peter gave him was breathtaking.

“Thank you.” Peter said sincerely.

Stiles had never been so confused with a conversation as he was to this one. Other than his father, and apparently Peter Hale of all people, Alpha’s did not apologize for anything or ask forgiveness. Yes Peter was the Alpha that every Alpha looked up to, and strove to be, but Stiles had not thought the man was _good_.

He tended to ignore Alpha’s who were not his father, or his principle, as they were all rude and thought him a waste of space. He wasn’t an Omega to be fought after with his anxiety and ADHD, the black stain of disease hanging over his head.

No one said anything to the Sheriff’s face but Stiles heard the whispers and his classmates had no problem sharing their views, and the overheard views of their parents, to him. The Sheriff would forever be stuck with a dud of an Omega son because no one would ever want him.

Yet here was an Alpha who had appeared genuinely sorrowful for upsetting Stiles, Omega or not everyone knew the Sheriff’s son, and he had wanted Stiles’ forgiveness. Peter Hale had to have heard what was wrong with Stiles but he didn’t act as if there was anything wrong with the Omega - and he’d just had proof of Stiles’ defects.  

There were questions brimming in Peter’s eyes but he didn’t voice them as he looked back at the Sheriff and Stiles was grateful for that. Now that his panic had faded he could feel hunger gnawing at his stomach and he glanced back at his cart, the crushed pepper dropped beside its wheels.

“Don’t worry about it.” His father murmured to him. “Go finish shopping. I will have someone come clean that up.” He ruffled Stiles’ hair before nudging him back to the shopping cart.

Stiles had only taken two steps when he heard Peter call to him.

     “It was nice seeing you.”

Stiles glanced over his shoulder to see the Alpha smiling at him. Stiles merely nodded, unsure what he was supposed to say, as he stepped around the pepper and went back to shopping.

He quickly gathered the rest of the ingredients he needed, hunger and embarrassment pushing him to finish faster, and he made his way to the checkout knowing his father would catch up. Usually after an _episode_ , as Stiles coined them in his head, the Sheriff kept Stiles within sight for both their peace of minds, and Stiles smiled as his father stepped up to unload the cart before Stiles had a chance to do it.

They didn’t talk as they loaded up the car and made for home but that suited Stiles just fine. He was tired and his skin felt hypersensitive and all he wanted to do was make dinner, eat, and get into bed.

It was Friday night so he didn’t have to worry about school the next day, so after dinner was done his father shooed him up the stairs - “ _Stiles I like cleaning up after you make the meal_.” - and Stiles snuggled in with a book. His body was tired but his brain whirred, unable to settle down like usual, but the next thing Stiles knew he was waking up to the sun shining in his bedroom.

 

* * *

The weekend carried on like it usually did in the Stilinski household and by the time Monday rolled around Stiles had forgot all about what had happened at the grocery story on Friday night. That is until he walked into the school Monday and apparently all the students could talk about was how Stiles had made a fool of himself in front Peter Hale on Friday.

How they knew, Stiles never did find out but the shame of it stuck with him all day. It made his buzzing erratic energy all the more prevalent as he was asked to leave two different classes when he couldn’t sit still.

The mocking and teasing wasn’t anything Stiles wasn’t used to but he could no longer ignore that he’d basically cemented in the town’s mind that he was a good for nothing Omega.

He could not even control himself in front of Peter Hale, the Alpha that every Omega within the state wanted to be with - the one Alpha he should have felt compelled to impress above all others - and he’d been reduced to a whimpering, weak Omega who was afraid of being in the presence of such an Alpha.

At least, that’s how it was painted in the sneering voices of his peers. They did not understand his anxiety or the reason behind it - it didn’t matter how many times Stiles had tried to explain that people who had anxiety did not have a reason for having it, they just did - and told him his only worth would be by selling his Omega body to the highest bidder.

He tried to not let it hurt but it stung a little bit more because he had managed to fall apart in front of Peter Hale. It didn’t matter what the adults thought, though Stiles knew their opinions of him to be low, what had happened Friday was the equivalent of socially castrating himself.

When he got home from school, skin sore and ready to curl up in bed, he checked the mail as usual before making his way into the house and to the kitchen. The mail went onto the table as he peeled a banana, eating it as he pulled ingredients out for chicken kabobs served over rice for dinner.

He let the rhythm of dicing the chicken and slicing the leftover peppers and onion sooth him. It did not matter what everyone else thought so long as his father thought he was a good Omega and loved him. The Sheriff had never once expressed disappointment in his son and Stiles let that thought comfort him.

He skewered the meat and veggies and left them to marinate as he tidied up the kitchen. He turned on the kettle to boil for some mint tea, his mother’s favourite whenever she was stressed, and sorted through the mail.

Most of it was just junk mail, and there were two bills which Stiles set aside for his father, before he hit the bottom of the pile. There was a cream coloured envelope with his name cursively written on the front with his address and it was butter soft against his fingers.

He glanced at the return address, curious as to who would send him a letter, and quickly glanced around his kitchen to see if it was some kind of joke. Peter Hale’s name and address were elegantly printed in the top left hand corner of the envelope.

His empty kitchen gave him no answers and Stiles looked back at the letter, tapping it against the table as he puzzled over it. The only way he was going to get an answer as to what it contained would be to open the letter but he half dreaded what was inside.

He puffed up his cheeks, holding his breath before exhaling loudly. Decision made, he opened the envelope and pulled out the letter.

     _Dear Stiles,_

_I hope this letter finds you well. I will admit that you have been on my mind since our encounter on Friday evening. I know that I may have left a sour impression in your mind and I hope to remedy that._

_I know it is not a conventional method of communicating, at least not now with all the technology we have at our disposal, but I was wondering if you would do me the honour of being my penpal. I find the notion of letter writing to be a beautiful form of communication. There is something very satisfying in receiving a letter, and writing one in turn._

_There is no expectation in this, just an offer of friendship. If writing letters to me does not appeal to you, please know I mean you all the best and would take no offense to it._

_If, however, the idea piques your curiousity I have included two sheets of stamps in the envelope. Know that, should you choose not to reply that the stamps are a gift and you need not worry over returning them._

_I confess I am at a loss as to how to end this letter. I think I will leave you with this:_

_What gets wetter the more it dries?_

_Yours Sincerely,_

_Peter_

Stiles sat back in his seat and re-read the letter twice more before opening up the envelope and pulling out the stamps. There were enough stamps to send Peter 20 letters if he chose to respond.

He honestly had no idea what to think. Why would Peter Hale be offering friendship to Stiles? There was literally nothing Stiles could offer him that he could not get elsewhere that would please him infinitely more.

He folded the letter up and stuck it, along with the stamps, back into the envelope to deal with later. He had homework to do and dinner to cook.

By the time the Sheriff walked in the door, Stiles had not managed to forget the letter that he had received. He had hoped to bury himself in thoughts of school and food but the letter, or to be more specific the Alpha who had sent him the letter, sat at the back of his mind the entire time.

He was finishing the kabobs on the barbecue when his father walked out on the back porch with the letter in his hand.

     “So Peter Hale sent you a letter.” Not a question, just curiousity.

Stiles didn’t say anything, just kept watching the food and periodically turning it so it didn’t burn. The Sheriff did not say anything further though Stiles knew what he wanted to ask.

He took the kabobs off the barbecue and turned it off before ushering his father back into the house and to the table. He could feel the Sheriff’s eyes on him as he dished the rice up onto two plates and placed 3 kabobs on each plate.

He placed the food on the table before he sat himself down and looked at his father. He kept waiting for the Sheriff to say something else but all the man did was thank him for the food and tuck in. Stiles could feel his leg twitching the longer he waited.

He finally burst. “He wants to be my friend.”

The Sheriff smiled. “Well that’s nice of him.”

     “Yeah.” Stiles dragged the word out. “My penpal friend. He wants us to write letters to each other.”

     “Is that something you want?” His father asked.

That was the crux of the matter. Stiles was not sure what he wanted. His eyes cast about the room and landed on the mug of mint tea he never drank. He pushed himself to his feet as he went to grab the tea to pop it in the microwave.

     “I think I could try it.” Is what he finally said to the Sheriff, his back turned to the man as he watched the mug rotate in the microwave.

     “Alright.”

Stiles glanced over his shoulder to find his father sorting through the other mail as he finished eating. Apparently that was the end of that conversation.

Stiles smiled at the microwave. His father, his Alpha, wanted to protect Stiles at all costs but he let Stiles lead him. For now Stiles would try being Peter’s penpal and that was good enough for the Sheriff. The moment Stiles decided that didn’t work anymore, his father would deal with that when it came to it - if it came to it - and it was really as simple as that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think.
> 
> ~ M


	3. Part 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All the love and thanks to [Dena](http://denaceleste.tumblr.com/) for reading this chapter over and making sure I make sense. <3

_Dear Mr. Hale_

 

_The answer to your riddle is a towel. The more it dries someone, or something, the wetter it gets._

 

_I would like to give this a shot, writing letters to you I mean. I don’t know how often I will be able to write to you as school is now coming to an end and I have exams to study for. I’m in my last year of school so these upcoming marks are super important in determining which Colleges I get accepted to._

 

_So, what do you do? I mean, I know you’re CEO of your own company but what exactly does that entail? Unless you can’t tell me. Which, you know, please tell me to back off with my questions. Or feel free to ignore any questions I ask. There’s no obligation to answer them._

 

_I guess I’ll finish off my letter the same way you did._

 

_If you have me, you want to share me. If you share me, you haven't got me. What am I?_

 

_All the best,_

_Stiles_

 

Stiles sighed as he looked over the letter. It screamed insecure and unsure to him but it was the seventh draft of the letter, all previous ones just different variations of the same thing, and he folded it up. He quickly shoved it into the envelope he had bought the previous day and sealed it up.

 

His paper was the cheap stuff so Stiles had gone out and bought a twenty pack of blue envelopes, to go with the twenty stamps Peter had given him, in the hopes that it would look like he had put some effort into the letter writing. It had already been a week since he had received Peter’s first letter and every day he did not respond the urge to just ignore the letter forever grew.

 

However, he did want to show the Alpha that he was not some useless, ignorable Omega who needed pitying. He wanted to redeem himself in Peter’s eyes as much as the Alpha apparently wanted to do the same. He more than wanted to redeem himself in the Alpha’s eyes, he wanted to make the Alpha completely forget how much of a nutcase he was and see that Stiles could be a good Omega, _was_ a good Omega.

 

He carefully selected a stamp and placed it in the top right hand corner on the front of his envelope. He copied down Peter’s address, his own writing shaky and juvenile next to the elegant cursive of the Alpha’s, and scribbled out his own address in the top left.

 

His stomach burbled with a mixture of excitement and anxiety. Even though he had written the letter, and it was sealed and ready to go, did not mean he _had_ to send it. He could just hide it away, or even better, throw it out so that no one would see the evidence of his babbling. He could cut it up into small pieces and no one would ever know that he’d failed so spectacularly as to mess up a simple letter.

 

He gripped the envelope in his hand, crumpling half of it, before it’s slipped out of his hand with a firm tug. His father was standing behind him smoothing out the envelope when he turned to look.

 

     “Would you like me to mail this for you?” The Sheriff asked, a faint smile tilting his lips upwards.

 

Stiles sighs, knowing his fate has just been sealed and nods. It’s easier to have his Alpha make the decision, to have him mail the letter, so Stiles can stop berating himself over it.

 

He watches his father’s back as the man walks purposefully towards the front door. Sitting at the kitchen table every step his father takes jarring him has Stiles jumping to his feet and shaking out his hands. He has the urge to run after his father but instead he turns to make the man a coffee, decaf as it’s after dinner, and fixes a mug for himself as well.

 

Normally he wouldn’t indulge, even in a mug of decaf, but he wants the warmth as it flows down his chest and lands in his stomach. He wants the smell of it to clear away the nervous sweat tang that is stuck in his nose.

 

Ah he’s taking his third sip he hears the front door open and close and he turns to greet his father as the man walks back into the kitchen.

 

“It’s done.” He smiles at Stiles as he steps forward to accept the mug Stiles holds out for him.

 

Stiles sways into the warmth of his Alpha’s body so near and the Sheriff pulls him in for a hug. Stiles lets out a shaky breath and feels the weight of his decision leaving him with the exhale and for the first time since sitting down to write the letter he doesn’t feel hard rocks lining his stomach in nerves.

 

     “Come watch the game with me.” His father prompts him but it’s not a demand, not in the Alpha way.

 

Stiles thinks it over, the studying he should do or the dishes soaking away in the sink that need washing, and decides that he can give himself this. This tiny moment of reprieve, a reward for stepping out of his comfort zone.

 

He accompanies his father to the living room and kneels on his pillow, head heavy on his father’s knee, and loses himself in the game as strong fingers soothe the last of the tension from his head. He relaxes into the sensation and lets his eyes fall closed, welcoming sleep with a tired mind.

 

* * *

 

 

As it nears the end of April Stiles forgets all about letters and making a good impression as his teachers load him down with final papers, study sheets, and tips for final projects.

 

The one thing Stiles has always been good at is doing well in school. Even when his life felt like it was falling apart because his mother passed away, even when the kids at school seemed to grow as he shrunk, he has always been able to maintain good grades.

 

It’s the one thing he can be sure will make his father proud even if he gets shunted off to the side at school for being a brown noser. So he plunges in and studies, makes binders full of notes, and adds last minute details to his projects and papers that he knows will give him extra credit.

 

His room becomes a chaotic mess of organized papers.

 

Unfortunately, he becomes so focused on school and making sure his Alpha is fed that he forgets to take his Adderall. He doesn’t do it on purpose but when he gets focused he forgets that he needs to take it even when he’s having a good day.

 

The doctors do not like having him on Adderall, the long term effects on Omega’s still unknown, so he always has a checkup at the end of each month to see how he’s doing. His father always sets it up - he likes to be there in case Stiles needs anything - so when his father comes to him with his half full bottle and a reminder of their appointment, Stiles breaks down. He hasn’t missed more than one day’s worth of pills in years.

 

It’s happened before, Stiles forgetting to take his meds, but he cannot help but feel like a failure. His Alpha trusted him to take care of himself. This means there will be more tests and questions, concerned words masking resigned eyes as the doctors take in the useless Omega in front of them.

 

Stiles hates it. Hates the doctors and their stupid pills, hates how angry he is at himself for disappointing his father, hates that he can’t just do one thing right.

 

It’s crazy what he does, and once his brain is clear he’ll be mortified, but he grabs up a fresh sheet of paper and writes to Peter.

 

     _Peter,_

 

_Seems I’ve fucked up again. Can’t even do something as simple as remember to take my meds. You would think it would be a good thing that I can focus without my Adderall but everyone acts as if I’ve committed some crime. Well, the doctors do. My father wants me to be healthy but he also wants me to be independent, and he knows I sometimes forget so he’s not mad at me, maybe a little disappointed though._

 

_So now I have to go in for tests, have to deal with the doctors pretending to be concerned with me while really just angry at me for not being a good little Omega and taking my pills like I’m supposed to. I know they’ll have a talk with my father telling him he should just order me to take my pills every day, that it would stop incidents like this from happening._

 

_I hate that. My father is a good Alpha, the best Alpha. He knows what’s best for me, believes in me. He thinks I’m a good Omega and I hate that the doctors try to make him see otherwise. _

 

_I try so hard but then things like this happen. What am I supposed to do? Why is it so easy for other Omegas?_

 

_I just don’t know. And I don’t know why I’m writing this to you. I’m not going to send it. You probably already think I’m a hopeless Omega too so I don’t want to further lower your opinion of me. Though your first letter to me was probably only sent out of pity. So really, how much further can I lower myself in your estimation?_

 

_Shit, that makes you sound like a bad person and I know you’re not. I have proof of it when you didn’t laugh at me or scorn me when I had my anxiety attack in the store. You’re probably the only Alpha, outside of my father, who hasn’t looked down on me._

 

_Ah I don’t even know what I’m trying to say. There are so many thoughts swirling in my brain and I’m so nervous about this doctors appointment. The doctors don’t want me on Adderall because they’re not sure of the long-term effect it could be having on me but they get mad at me when I forget to take it._

 

_Whatever,_

_Stiles_

 

He feels better after he’s spewed his thoughts onto the paper, pink colouring his cheeks as the realisation dawns on him that he was writing the letter and picturing himself telling it to Peter’s face. Thinking of the Alpha’s kind face had had him bearing his heart, telling his deepest thoughts, in a way he had never imagined before.

 

He laughs at himself and it’s not a nice sound. One Alpha does something nice for him and Stiles is already a pining eager puppy looking to lean on him, to let the Alpha care for and comfort him.

 

Cursing his childishness, Stiles stuffs the letter into a blue envelope to deal with later. He does not want it laying open on the table where his father could potentially find it, so in the envelope it goes and Stiles slides it under his textbook as he hears his father coming in the door.

 

He’d taken over the coffee table in the living instead of studying in his room when he got in from school so that he’d be ready to go for his appointment when his father walked in the door. He haphazardly shoves all of his textbooks and notes into his backpack when the Sheriff walks in the door and runs to grab his pills from where he left them upstairs.

 

His doctor knows what kind of medication he’s on but they always want him to bring it with him to appointments, even though it’s all on file. He throws his backpack onto his bed and grabs the pills up from his desk.

 

They make it to the appointment on time and Stiles endures their questions, peeing in a cup, and the prodding of needles as they take more blood. He’s sure at this point that they have taken enough of his blood to be able to clone him.

 

The appointment drags on like it usually does and Stiles is only too grateful when his father walks in the room so that the doctor can talk to the two of them together. Stiles never wants his father in the room for the first bit of his appointments, even though being alone with the doctor always make his palms sweat and his heart beat faster, because he wants to prove that he can do it - that he doesn’t need his Alpha holding his hand.

 

He’s pretty sure his father knows it’s all an act because Stiles has a hard time not showing his relief at having the Sheriff with him, but they both pretend like it isn’t there and the Sheriff always treats Stiles to ice cream afterwards.

 

Stiles begs for a Blizzard as they leave the doctor’s office and the Sheriff easily complies - skor for Stiles and turtle for his father.

 

They get home and Stiles throws some hot dogs on the barbecue so that their dinner doesn’t just consist of frozen treats and forgets all about his written confession.

 

At least, he forgets about it until the next day when he receives a reply to the letter he sent Peter a few days before on Monday. The envelope is the same cream colour and butter soft as it was the first time and the sight of it jumpstarts Stiles’ brain into remembering he never did dispose of the confession he scribbled down the other day.

 

He quickly makes his way to the living room and casts his eyes about for any spot of blue. It doesn’t take him long to search through the couch and underneath it. There’s nothing underneath the coffee table, and Stiles spends long minutes crawling around on his hands and knees to search the floor.

 

Search done in the living room, Stiles runs up the stairs to see if the envelope somehow made it into his room, carried up along with his backpack in his dash to grab his pills and make it to his appointment the other day.

 

It’s a night where the Sheriff is working an evening shift so Stiles does not have to worry about feeding his Alpha so he throws himself into cleaning his room in the hopes of finding the letter. He can feel panic ebbing and flowing like the tide in his brain the more he cleans and the letter is still nowhere to be found.

 

What did he do with it?

 

He can feel his eyes watering as his upset increases.

 

He hears the phone ring and goes to grab it blindly, his brain so full of finding the letter that it doesn’t have room to wonder at who would be calling.

 

“Hello?” He croaks out, throat sore from his neck being clenched in panic.

 

“Stiles? It’s Peter Hale.” Stiles feels faint.

 

“Yes, hello.” He does not know what to say.

 

“I believe I received something of yours that I wasn’t supposed to get. I was not sure what to do with it so I thought I would give you a call.” Peter’s voice is smooth, no hint of what he is feeling coming through the line.

 

Stiles’ legs collapse on him as the words sunk in.  “My letter.” He can feel himself shaking as his world narrows to the voice on the phone.

 

    “Yes.” Peter pauses. Stiles gnaws on his lip, the pain helping him focus. “What would you like me to do with it?”

 

_Burn it_ he wants to say but he does not think the Alpha will agree to that. “Can I come get it?” He asks before he can think better of it. He really does not want to see Peter after the Alpha’s seen the letter but Stiles also does not want him to have it in his possession.

 

    “Tonight?”

 

    “Yes.”

 

    “Do you know where I live?”

 

Stiles exhales shakily. Peter’s going to let him get the letter and then Stiles vows to never leave his room again and to cease all communications with the Alpha. He does not think he can handle any more humiliation in front of Peter.

 

    “I have your address.” He reminds Peter.

 

    “Right, of course. It should take you no longer than 20 minutes to get to my place from yours.” Peter tells him. Stiles nods at the phone before remembering that Peter cannot see him. Before he can say anything, Peter speaks up. “Stiles, if it’s not to much of an imposition, I would like you to join me for dinner.”

 

Stiles pulls the phone away from his ear and stares at it in horror. All manner of excuses flood his mind as he gapes at the phone. He can hear the Alpha breathing calmly through the phone and can only imagine what the Alpha is picking up from him.

 

“Do I have to?” Stiles blurts out before he can stop himself.

 

“No Stiles, you do not have to. It is an offer, not a demand. You are more than free to decline.” Peter assures him.

 

Stiles almost wished he could see the Alpha’s face, scent him, to be able to determine what the man was thinking. “I, y-yeah, okay.”

 

“Wonderful!” Peter sounds genuinely happy over Stiles’ stuttered response. “I will see you soon.”

 

The promise sits heavy on Stiles’ shoulder as he disconnects the call. It was undoubtedly rude of him to hang up on the Alpha but as he was having issues comprehending what had just happened he didn’t allow himself to stress about it too much.

 

He could feel a bubble of laughter wanting to force it’s way out of him but he bit his lips to keep the hysterical sound in. He’d just agreed to have dinner with an Alpha that both awed and scared him without his father present.

 

The thought of his Alpha stopped his thoughts and he looked at the phone in his hand. He quickly dialed his father’s number, needing to hear the soothing rumble of his father’s voice before he edged himself completely off the cliff of sanity and fell into a deep panic.  

 

     “Hey kiddo, how are you?”

 

Stiles forced himself to breath as tears sprang in his eyes. His Alpha would keep him safe. His Alpha could protect him from this if he needed him to.

 

     “Stiles?”

 

     “Yeah, I’m here dad.” He replied, voice high pitched in panic.

 

     “What’s wrong?”

 

     “I agreed to go to dinner at Peter Hale’s house tonight.” Even just the act of confessing to his Alpha made him feel better.

 

     “When, just now?” His father asked and Stiles hummed in agreement. “Would you like me to call and cancel?”

 

     “Yes!” Stiles almost shouted down the line. It was an instinctive response - wanting his Alpha to take care of everything - but Stiles remembered why he was going to Peter’s house in the first place. “No. I-I just wanted you to know I was going.”

 

He could hear his father sighing. “I want you to text me when you get there and when you leave.”

 

He was grateful that his father did not ask him if he was sure because he would absolutely crumble under the question. “Yes, I can do that.”

 

     “Alright then, drive safe. I love you.”

 

     “I love you too.”

 

     “And Stiles? I’m proud of you.”

 

Stiles could feel his lower lip trembling as the tears he had been holding at bay finally burst free. “Thanks dad.”

  
He hung up the phone and let his head thunk back against the wall. He had absolutely no idea what he had just managed to get himself into. Even though he was extremely nervous about dining with Peter Hale at the man’s house - anxiety making his skin low-level buzz and his palms sweat - Stiles could not deny that a tiny bit of him was excited.


	4. Part 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please be advised, Stiles has a pretty severe panic attack in the first half of this chapter.

Once his tears tapered off, Stiles glanced at the time and realised that he was going to be later than the twenty minutes that the Alpha expected it to take him. That did not help the jitters zinging along his nerves as he grabbed himself up a sweater and took a quick peek in the mirror.

His hair looked alright but his eyes were a mess. He made a quick detour to the bathroom to splash some cold water on his face, hoping it would help the puffiness surrounding his eyes.

He double checked his pockets for his wallet and phone, snatching up his keys from the bowl by the front door - a necessity implemented by his father after Stiles had misplaced his keys the fourth time.

Stepping outside helps to clear his head and make him upset all at once. He’s not agoraphobic but sometimes, when he’s really worked up, leaving the safety and comfort of his home just adds to the fear that’s already bubbling up inside of him.

He flexes his fingers to work some feeling back into them as he gets into his car. He plugs in the Alpha’s address to his GPS after starting the car and rolls down the window. The breeze will hopefully help clear his head on the drive over.

Stiles knows the vague area where Peter Hale’s house is, he googled it after he received the Alpha’s first letter, but driving over opens up his eyes to their differences. Stiles and his father live in a medium sized house on the outskirts of suburban life in Beacon Hills.

Peter Hale, CEO of Hale Enterprises and Alpha Extraordinair, lives in a mansion in the middle of the woods. The lawn is perfectly manicured, at least until the forest where trees live in abundance in wild glory. It makes Stiles itch to run free through the forest, leaving his cares behind.

The house is every Omega’s dream home, secluded away in the middle of the forest where their instincts tell them is the best place to raise a family. The house is all dark browns and muted beiges with mason work all along the bottom of the house.

It speaks to Stiles on a deep level and he could picture himself nesting out in the sun on pillows and blankets nestled around him. There’s a bare patch of dirt nestled along the walkway that has Stiles thinking of getting down on his knees and planting some daffodils, maybe some tulips, and a mint plant - because mint soothes him and blocks out the worst of the smelly flowers.

There is a stillness to the air as Stiles steps out of the car, the little animals and insects humming a soft symphanie in the background. It eases the fear of meeting the Alpha, his instincts calmed in a way he cannot find back home - even though they do not live in the city, merely on the edges.

Stiles wonders what his dad’s thoughts would be on finding a house closer to the forest. They are not looking to move, and Stiles would not want his father’s commute to work to be any longer, but he cannot deny that the idea of living in a similar place to Peter Hale is appealing.

Stiles flushes at the idea of living _with_ Peter Hale and quickly shuts off that thought when the Alpha in question opens the front door to his house.

The Alpha looks impeccable in dark blue jeans and a cream coloured henley, with the front of the long sleeved shirt opened at the collar in an appealing V that shows Stiles a hint of chest hair. His eyes zero in on the dark hair and he pulls in a deep breath, mournful that he cannot pull in the musk of that chest hair from where he is standing beside his car.

The Alpha does not say anything, merely waits with a smile on his face for Stiles to make his way over to the front door.

The problem Stiles has is that he wants to get into his car and drive back home, call his father so the man can meet him at home so they can sit the night away watching tv. He also wants to get the letter that Peter has in his possession and the only way that will happen is if he follows the Alpha into the house.

Stiles momentarily wonders how rude it would be if he just asked for his letter and left, even after he already told the Alpha that he would stay for dinner.

He reaches his hand into his pocket and grips his phone, wondering if his father would disapprove of him calling his dad to settle himself. He is about 50 paces away from Peter Hale where the Alpha is standing in his doorframe, and it does not look like the Alpha has moved one bit.

Deciding it would make him feel better, he pulls out his phone and calls his dad, uncaring if Peter can hear him. He needs the reassurance of his own Alpha’s voice.

“Son, are you alright?” His dad asks in lieu of saying hello.

“Hi dad. Yes, I’m okay. I just arrived at Alpha Hale’s house.” He pauses, unsure of how to continue. He feels silly now but forges through anyway, knowing his dad won’t hang up until he is reassured that Stiles is alright. “I just needed to hear your voice. I’m okay. A little overwhelmed but I guess that’s to be expected.”

He can hear his dad exhale through the phone, and knows it is in relief. “Good, I’m glad you’re okay. Remember our breathing exercises if things become too much for you. Alpha Hale will understand. However, if you need to leave - at any time - you just tell him and come home. No further discussion will be needed beyond that, you understand?”

Stiles smiles as the tension in his stomach eases at the words. Even away from him, his Alpha is there to protect him.

“Okay. Love you, daddy.” Stiles whispers, turning slightly away from Peter’s gaze even though it’s futile.

“Love you too, Son. Text me when you’re home. I should be home around midnight.”

The phone clicks off from his dad’s line and Stiles sighs before pocketing his phone again. The Alpha is still smiling at him from the door and Stiles wonders what he is thinking.

He does not appear fazed at all by the phone call he overheard and for that Stiles is grateful. Every step he takes closer brings the jitters back stronger and Stiles has to remind himself to breathe.

His Alpha and he had gone over his breathing exercises numerous times, and he taps into the memory of strong fingers massaging his scalp as a strong voice counts out, ‘ _breathe in one two three, now out one two three_ ’. It helps center him as he closes the gap between himself and Alpha Hale.

“Hello Stiles, welcome to my home. Please, come in.” Peter steps back as he ushers Stiles into his house.

It feels very momentous, stepping over the threshold of the Alpha’s house. It’s the first time Stiles has ever been in an Alpha’s house without his dad along with him. It makes me feel very strong, and yet very small all at the same time.

He is an independent Omega and he can do exactly what is required of him.

“Hello Alpha Hale, thank you for having me.” He says, not trying to smile because he knows it will come out more as a grimace. He is not feeling very confident even if he has made this big step. He’s proud that he even remembers his manners at this point.

“I believe this is yours.” The Alpha hands over Stiles’ letter, and Stiles cannot help but hold his breath as he takes the blue envelope.

He thought the Alpha might make him wait the entire dinner before giving it back to him and yet it is now in his hands. He could very well leave in that moment, and nothing would be worse for wear. He grips the envelope hard in his hands as he mulls over his choice, and he just knows the Alpha is waiting for his next move.

The front door is still standing open, an invitation for Stiles to walk back out and into the beautifully calming fresh air surrounding the Alpha’s house. Yet, Stiles - despite the buzz creeping along his veins and the anxiety eating away at his resolve - he finds himself closing the door and bending down to take off his shoes.

It’s cathartic, in a way, following through with his decision. He _can_ make decisions, he _can_ be an independant Omega, and he _can_ make his Alpha proud.

If the walls feel a little close and his breathing speeds up a little bit, that’s just something he tries to push to the back of his mind as he follows the Alpha towards what he assumes is the kitchen. He finds he cannot really take in the decorations along the walls as he walks through the house, his mind full with just remembering to breathe.

He has to remind himself that it is not a weakness that he needs the breathing exercises - the voice in his hand sounding exactly like his dad.

He wonders what Alpha Hale can smell coming off of him but that’s a secondary issue. His breathing is speeding up the further into the house they walk and his primary concern is to calm himself down.

His heart is thundering as his breathing becomes shallower, and his head feels like it’s bulging with the pounding of the blood through his head. All his eyes can focus on is the fuzziness creeping further and further into his vision. The pressure is building and it feels like if he does not shut his eyes that they are going to pop out of his head.

The pain flaring up from his knees has his eyes flying open and he cannot remember how he came to be kneeling on the floor in an unfamiliar hallway. There’s a pain in his chest, a knife stabbing in time to each ragged breath his draws in, and the rest of his body feels like it’s being stuck with pins.

He cannot feel any one limb just all of them one big ball of pain. He knows that the worst of the pain is coming from the general area of his upper body, but it’s an abstract thought that is there one moment and gone the next in his panic.

His senses pick up a steady _thump thump thump_ beating in front of him but he cannot reach it and blackness is closing in. He welcomes the dark, knows the pain will stop if he just embraces it.

_“Stiles, listen to my voice. You will open your eyes. You will breath. Follow my voice. I am right here.”_

The voice is strong and compelling but Stiles does not recognize it and tries to shy away. He wants his Alpha. He is scared but the voice demands his attention. There is a ring of authority to it that he finds hard to ignore.

Once he starts to flow back, the voice drawing him further and further to the surface, all the individual aches and pains make themselves known to him. His dry mouth and gasping breaths pulling air into his lungs like shards of glass; his shoulders hunched and neck locked in place; his nails digging into his thighs, pierced so deep that blood is pooling around the digits.

He feels like he’s falling back into his body and only then does he realise that there is not one, but two bodies beside him. The voice pulling him up one that’s been with him as long as he can remember, soothing his worries and kissing his hurts away from the moment he was born - the voice that’s bringing him back to earth one gentle squeeze of his shoulders at a time.

“Alpha!” He cries out against the pain and the fear crowding him in.

Suddenly he’s enveloped in a warm embrace and he sags in relief as his first breath without fear brings clear thoughts. His head aches something fierce and his nose is clogged, but as his dad’s soothing rumble eases him so too does the pain start to fade as his Alpha takes it away.

He wants to cry as the overwhelming vastness of his anxiety is blanketed just being in the presence of two soothing Alpha’s.

Now that he can think more clearly, he can feel Alpha Hale’s hand gently gripping his neck and it helps to ground him further in the present. Each breath comes easier and he can now hear the muffled, “ _In one two three, out one two three_ ” that had been a background mantra slipping under his walls from his dad.

He wonders vaguely how long it took Alpha Hale to call the Sheriff once his panic attack set in. His angry tears set in then when he realises he’s most definitely thrown away any chance he had at changing Alpha Hale’s perception of him as the flimsy, weak Omega.

He just wants to go home, and tells his dad as much between hiccups.

He’s scooped up in his Alpha’s arms in the next moment, and only has a moment to mourn the loss of contact with Alpha Hale when Peter’s hand drops from his neck, before snuffling into his dad’s neck. This is where he needs to be and nothing will make him feel better than heading home and kneeling beside his dad’s chair.

He can just make out his Alpha talking to Alpha Hale but the words are not making any sense. His head is still fuzzy in that way that it usually stays after a bad attack, and he is exhausted. He knows when they get home his Alpha will allow him to doze with his head rested against his Alpha’s knee to rid himself of the last of the anxiety and panic poking at the edges of his conscience.

The breeze of the cool outside air wakes him up a bit. He glances around and blinks his eyes clear until he can make out Peter Hale following just behind them to the Sheriff’s cruiser, face frowning in concern.

“I’m sorry, Alpha.” Stiles slurs out, and it fills him with warmth to see Alpha Hale’s frown ease into a smile.

“I pushed you Stiles. You have nothing to be sorry for.” Peter grimaces a bit but Stiles knows it is not because of him.

His Alpha stops and Alpha Hale reaches out a hand to brush his fingers through Stiles’ hair, before leaning in to gently kiss his forehead. Stiles grins goofily at him and hums in delight. He’s made Alpha Hale happy and he feels safe in the cradle of his dad’s arms - maybe he did not mess up with Alpha Hale after all.

He falls asleep before his dad can even buckle him into the car.

* * *

When he wakes up, it’s the following day and his eyes are almost crusted shut. His head feels like it’s twice the size it normally is and everything is too bright. He blinks his eyes a few times and spots his dad slumped into a chair, fast asleep, beside his bed and a bottle of water and some tylenol on his bedside table.

He pushes himself up until he’s resting against his headboard and he grabs up the water and chugs back half of it before picking up the pills to take as well. The water is cold and helps to take away his dehydration pains.

It takes a moment for the memories of the night before to trickle into his brain and Stiles whines in mortification as it all comes blaring back to him. The second time he’s come face to face with Peter Hale and he’s gone and had another panic attack in the Alpha’s vicinity.

He may as well resign himself to his fate of being single forever. At least he’ll always have his dad.

Speaking of, when he next looks at his dad, the Alpha’s eyes are open and regarding him with fondness and concern - a dad look if ever he’s seen one.

“Hey kiddo, how’s the head?” The Sheriff asks as he reaches forward to ease the top most layer of pain. The pills will work deeper, and Stiles gives his dad a grateful smile.

Stiles pats his dad’s hand where it’s gripping his knee. “Better now, thank you.”

Stiles opens his mouth to say, he’s not sure what yet, when his Alpha speaks first.

“Peter and I had a talk last night after I put you to bed, and we’ve decided that we’re going to do a once weekly dinner together.” The Sheriff puts a hand up to forestall any questions as he continues on. “Alpha Hale is interested in you Stiles, would like to court you, but he cannot get to know you if every time you meet you have a panic attack.”

Stiles gapes at his dad and cannot stop blurting out what he says next. “But why would he want me when I he knows I’m defective?”

He knows that was the wrong this to ask when his dad frowns at him. He is usually always careful to keep his thoughts about his defects to himself as he knows his Alpha does not agree. His dad is biased though and Stiles cannot help but want to keep himself looking good in his dad’s eyes.

“First off, there is nothing defective with you.” His dad states firmly. “Secondly, you do not get to decide who wants to court you. You are allowed to say you’re not interested in being courted but you cannot know Alpha Hale’s thoughts on you if you haven’t asked him, which I know you haven’t because you only just found out he wants to court you.” His dad sighs as he pats Stiles’ knee one last time before standing up to pace.

“He was going to tell you last night, and see what your response was but we all know how that went.”

Stiles winces at the reminder of it.

“Sorry. I’m going to mess this up if I keep talking, but I’m just so worried about you Stiles. I want to wrap you up and keep you in a bubble but that’s not possible. Do you want me to tell Alpha Hale no? Because I will. One word from you Stiles, and you will never have to talk to him or interact with him in any way ever again.” His dad gently grasps his shoulders and squeezes, kneeling down so he’s face to face with Stiles.

Stiles goes to shake his head but aborts the movement in case his dad takes it the wrong way. He cannot believe that Alpha Hale still wants to court him even after all evidence pointing to him being a bad Omega. He cannot deny that the thought of the Alpha wanting him fills him with an equal mixture of dread and excitement.

“He really wants to court me?” Stiles asks and his voice squeaks in his excitement.

His mind is filling with possibilities but he’s trying to curb his enthusiasm. His mind is already going over what menu he can cook up when they have Alpha Hale over.

“He does. He dropped off a letter for you late last night and wanted me to give it to you if you were amenable to being courted by him.” The Sheriff tells him as he hands over an envelope that Stiles recognizes instantly as the Alpha’s.

Stiles does not wait for his dad to leave before opening the letter, merely pops a finger under the fold and gently opens the envelope. His Alpha does not appear to be moving from his place where’s he’s reseated himself and that is fine by Stiles.

     _Dear Stiles,_

 

_I am so sorry if you felt pressured to come to my house for dinner. That is the last thing I wanted you to feel. I want my home to feel welcoming and open to you, a safe haven away from the pressures of your life._

_I made my intentions clear to your Father, and Alpha, of my want to court you and now it is time I tell you._

_I have known of you since you were born. You were the talk of the town, the Sheriff’s little Omega son. You grew into a curious little toddler and your inquisitive mind won over everyone you met. You had so much energy and the sweetest little impish grin. I, myself, was only 16 when I first met you. You told me that Alpha’s were busy-persons who were bossypants. It was the cutest interaction I’ve had with anyone, ever. (And I must tell you I have some pretty cute nieces and nephews.)_

_We barely interacted after that moment because I was busy with school, and you were busy growing up. Then the tragedy of your mother falling ill, and passing away happened, and your Father did what any good Alpha would do and protected you from society._

_I had never, until that moment, felt my instincts surge so quickly to protect someone who was not of my own pack. Every part of me fought to get to your side, to show you that you had more than just your Alpha, and Father, to be there for you._

_My wolf rebelled at the notion of leaving you to your Alpha’s care. It could not understand why we were not doing everything in our power to be there for you. That’s why I left to make something of myself. I wanted to make myself into the Alpha who deserved an Omega like you._

_Unfortunately, making a name for oneself takes time, and by the time I had something to show for all the work I had done you were a teenager and I had been away for 8 years. You did not know me and I did not know you personally, and I had no idea how to approach you._

_So I waited, for two years, after I came back to Beacon Hills to build up the courage to speak to you. Happening upon you at the grocery story was a complete coincidence, believe it or not. I had already planned to come to your house for dinner so I was not thinking of meeting you anywhere else._

_Then, of course, I went and completely messed up the first meeting. I was overwhelmed that I had happened upon you browsing the vegetables. I was frozen in place, watching you. Of course I came off as some creep Alpha with bad intentions, so zoned in on you that it took me an embarrassing amount of time to realise that I had upset you._

_After that moment, watching your Alpha soothing you and calming you down, I berated myself for my actions and feelings. I was the one to scare you and I wanted to be the one comforting you. Your father sent you off and approached me, ready to give me a dressing down I desperately deserved but I guess he saw right through me._

_He asked me what my intentions were for you and for the life of me I cannot quite clearly remember the answer I stuttered out to him. My senses were locked on you walking throughout the store and I wanted to follow your scent trail right to you. Of course, your Father snapped me out of it right quick and told me I had to go about the right way of courting you. Like I said, he saw right through me._

_He left me after making sure I understood that you were the final say in whether I courted you or not. I would not have asked for anything more, even if your Alpha had said he was final say, I would only ever have accepted your say so to court you._

_I wanted to ask you over dinner and went through with my plan. I had this entire romantic dinner planned out, and I thought it was the perfect way to woo you. Except, of course, I pushed you to come over and perhaps lost all of my chances with you._

_Here I have been pushing you this entire time and I have not yet even asked if you want me to court you. So, I must now ask._

_Stiles, would you do me the honour of allowing me to court you?_

_Your Father has said he thinks we should have weekly dinners, is that something you would like? You have final say here, in everything._

_I am sincerely sorry for the troubles I have caused you._

_Yours truly,_

_Peter_

Stiles trembled as he set the letter aside. He had never expected that he had made such an impression upon the Alpha, that _Stiles_ was the reason the Alpha was the man he was today. It was quite the revelation.

Peter Hale was the most eligible Alpha in the entire county and he only wanted Stiles, crazy Omega who could not control himself and panicked at the slightest provocation. It almost did not seem to be real.

“Did I really meet Peter when I was a toddler?” Stiles asked, because he had no recollection of the meeting and that was the first thing from the letter that his mind was able to stick on.

“Yes. Marched right up to him too and told him what for. You had just had a bad meeting with a little Alpha in your daycare, and you were convinced every Alpha but me was a,” His dad paused, seemingly searching for a word.

Stiles laughed. “A bossypants?”

“Yup, a bossypants. Had everyone at the barbecue laughing themselves hoarse and Peter crouched down to listen to you seriously. He ended up spending the rest of the barbecue being pulled around by the hand by you, this little character of an Omega, listening intently to everything you had to say. You made yourself quite the friend.” His dad laughed at the memory of it.

“He still remembers that. Mentioned it in the letter.” Stiles nodded at the letter, an invitation for his father to read it.

The Alpha ruffled his hair before picking up the letter and reading it. Stiles tried to process how he was feeling while his dad read the letter but apart from a low level excitement, and his ever present anxiety, he could not really parse out the rest of his emotions.

It was quite mind boggling to him.

His dad placed his letter down and looked at him seriously. “So, what are you thinking? Are you going to accept his offer to court you?”

Stiles did not stop the grin that took over his mouth. “Accept the court of the most sought after Alpha in all of Beacon Hills? Peter freaking Hale? Uh yeah, I think so!” Stiles laughed.

“And the weekly dinners?” The Sheriff prompted.

That made Stiles pause for a moment. The idea of seeing the Alpha again made his stomach tense but with the knowledge that Peter actually wanted to court him, it made the thought of facing the Alpha easier.

“I guess I should call Alpha Hale up and plan the first one.” He smiled confidently at his dad.

His Alpha smiled at him and pulled him in for a hug. Even if, later on, Stiles’ confidence faltered he knew his dad would be there to help him along.


	5. Part 5

It takes Stiles the entirety of the day to work up the courage to call Peter. He had thought about texting Peter but the potential nuances hidden behind text messages bothered him more than phone calls, so he straightened his back and picked up the phone.

It rang twice before Peter picked up the phone. “This is Peter Hale.”

Stiles smiled at the smooth quality of Peter’s voice even as his palms started to sweat.

“Hi Peter, it’s uh, Stiles.” Stiles replied, tumbling over his words. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying not to internally berate himself.

“Oh Stiles!” Peter said, voice light. “I am so happy you called. How are you feeling?”

Stiles had to think about that for a moment, stopping himself from blurting out his usual answer of fine. “Nervous.”

The line was silent for a few seconds before Peter let out a big sigh. “Me too.” He laughed.

Stiles released the breath he’d been holding. Stiles did not ask how Peter Hale of all people was nervous. Stiles knew how crippling nerves could be and would never question someone else’s emotions even if they did surprise him.

He hummed a moment, waiting to see if Peter would take the initiative to take hold of the conversation. Peter merely remained quiet and Stiles took that as a sign that he should proceed with why he called in the first place.

“I read your letter.”

Stiles heard a sharp intake of breath from Peter. It was different for him, being on the other end of a conversation where he was not the one waiting for news. It was a strange power he was not sure he liked having.

“I want you to court me.” Stiles cringed as the words came out all wrong. “I mean, Alpha I accept your request to court me, and will allow your presence in my life until such a time as we complete our courting or part ways.” Stiles sighed out his approximation of the proper courting words.

They were not exactly what he was meant to say but the words had never sat well with Stiles, words like being honoured and humbled. Alpha’s were already entitled enough without an Omega prostrating themselves before an Alpha in exultation of having received such a treasure as an Alpha’s regard.

“Thank you Stiles, I will do my best not to fuck this up.” Peter replied and Stiles heard ruffling on the other side of the line. He laughed aloud at the curse. It relaxed him as nothing else probably could have, hearing the esteemed Alpha dropping his facade.

Peter cleared his throat. “I am very sorry, that was inappropriate.” Peter sounded like he was cringing.

Stiles let out a laugh. “No! You cannot take it back. It makes you more approachable.” Stiles let himself chuckle a little more before realizing how that could have sounded. It was his turn to cringe.

“I didn’t mean that the way it probably sounded.” Stiles said as he felt his face heat up and the calmness that has settled over him evaporate in the face of his mortification.

Peter started laughing and it helped Stiles relax. He had not inadvertently angered the Alpha which Stiles knew he was all too good at doing in most every situation he found himself in with others who were not his dad.

“Do I sound like some trumped up Alpha usually? I’m trying so hard here to be what you want.” Peter confessed.

Stiles sucked in a surprised breath. The honesty there, Peter actually trying to be what he thought Stiles might want, was both thrilling and a little scary.

“I can only be myself, flaws and all, Alpha.” Stiles figured a little honesty, bare and from the core, would not go amiss. “I only want that from you as well. No one is perfect.” He finished off on a whisper.

He wanted to be perfect but he failed that miserably every day. If Peter tried being any more perfect than he already was, Stiles was not sure he would be able to keep up.

“That makes me very happy to hear.” Peter cleared his throat. “And what of the weekly dinners your father would like us to have?”

Stiles and his dad had talked about the weekly dinners. The Sheriff wanted to help Stiles however he may need it but understood that, as with almost everything concerning food, Stiles needed control over it. Though his dad had made sure that Stiles knew if ever he was getting overwhelmed trying to plan the dinners with Peter that they would order take out and that would be the end of the discussion.

Which, admittedly, was more of a relief than Stiles was willing to voice out loud. It’s not that he could not plan accordingly but, even if he reminded himself daily that there was no pressure behind the occasions, Stiles could admit that he would most likely work himself into a tizzy over it.

“There’s just one thing.”

Peter hummed. “Yes?”

“I would like the dinners to happen at my house and I don’t want you to bring anything with you.” Stiles rushed out.

He knew he would feel indebted to the Alpha if the man brought anything with him and Stiles could not deal with that. He already felt like he owed the world time and again for his shortcomings, he did not need the added stress of feeling obliged to return the favour.

“Okay. Is that up for negotiation?”

“No. Well at least not right now.” Stiles amended.

“Fair enough. Are we going to set up the date for our first dinner now, or will we do that later?”

Stiles was fiercely glad that Peter said nothing more on the subject of bringing things with him. From what Stiles had read, and seen on TV shows and in movies, Alphas tended to want to shower their Omegas in presents.

Not that Stiles was averse to getting presents but he already felt inadequate enough that he did not need to feel lower about himself. He had some things to offer to a relationship, he was a great baker and could cook up quite the feast, but his anxiety and panic attacks, his ADHD, detracted from his good qualities - at least that’s what he had been told by countless classmates and he had as of yet to have evidence to the contrary.

“Are you free on Wednesday night?” It was Monday night which gave Stiles two days to plan.

He wanted their dinners to be on Wednesday because that meant it was still a school night so he could ask Peter to leave without seeming rude because he had a genuine excuse for going to bed early. It also meant that he would be busy with school so his stressing over having the Alpha over would be slightly mitigated by his stress over school.

“I am. What time would you like me to come over?”

Stiles took a deep breath. Giving Peter a time finalized their plans and it was a big step. “I think 7 is a good time.”

“That’s settled then. I will see on Wednesday at 7.”

There was a pause. Stiles did not know how to fill it.

“I’m looking forward to Wednesday. Goodbye Stiles.”

“Bye Peter.”

The phone line went dead and Stiles put it on the charger before making his way to his dad in the living room.

“Everything alright?” The Sheriff asked as Stiles knelt on his pillow at his Alpha’s feet.

“Yup. He’s coming over Wednesday at 7.”

Stiles leaned into the hand that landed gently on his head.

“Alright then.”

They stayed like that, the Sheriff running his hand through Stiles’ hair as Stiles knelt beside him, until Stiles needed to head to bed. Considering he was anxious about having Alpha Hale over for dinner on Wednesday night, he was calm and relaxed when he crawled into bed.

He could do this.

* * *

Stiles had chosen to make spaghetti as the first meal he made Alpha Hale. It was a comfort food and he knew he made a delicious sauce. He went the extra mile and made homemade pasta noodles - spinach the main ingredient - just for extra extravagance. It did not take him long and he had the pasta drying and ready well before Peter was due over.

His dad was going to be home by 6:30 as Stiles had asked him to pick up a nice white wine to go with the meal. Just because he could not drink it did not mean it would not be a good addition to the meal.

He puttered around the kitchen, focusing himself anytime his mind went wandering on what to add next to his sauce or to check how the chocolate mousse was coming along.

Stiles left the sauce to simmer, giving it time to really soak up the spices he had added in, as he tidied up the kitchen. It helped to soothe the topmost layer of nerves and by the time he was done and putting everything away his dad walked in the door.

“Perfect timing!” Stiles called to him as he walked towards the front door.

He allowed his Alpha to pull him in for a big hug, scenting each other, before taking the wine and walking back to the kitchen.

“Smells good.”

Stiles smiled as he placed the wine in the fridge. He grabbed the butter and diced garlic and placed them on the counter beside the fridge.

“Good. Now, I need you to make your garlic butter for the garlic bread. I’m going to have a quick shower and then I’ll turn the water on to boil when I get down. I’ll put the garlic butter on the bread and pop it in the oven just before the spaghetti’s ready.” Stiles nodded decisively as his dad set about making the garlic butter.

“Alright, on with you.” The Sheriff laughed as he mixed the butter.

Stiles could easily make the butter himself but as with everything, his dad wanted to help in some small way and thus Stiles always had him make garlic butter when they had spaghetti. It was a small thing but it made his Alpha happy which made Stiles happy, a win-win all around.

The shower loosened the tense muscles in his shoulders and he stepped out feeling refreshed. Showers, Stiles had found, could sometimes be a burden and sometimes a blessing and he was glad today was the latter.

He put on the outfit he had picked out earlier, jeans and a white undershirt over which he put on a simple purple sweater. Everything tonight was about comfort because Stiles knew that anything extravagant would just overwhelm him.

He checked his phone, he had 15 minutes until Peter was set to arrive which gave him just enough time to get the water boiled and the spaghetti cooked before the Alpha arrived. He made his way downstairs to the kitchen and smiled as he saw that his dad had set the table. Stiles had forgotten that that would need to be done.

He flicked on the burner and gave the spaghetti sauce a quick stir. He paced to the living room and peered out the window but there was no sign of Alpha Hale.

He made his way back to the kitchen and pulled out the bread - fresh bread he had made yesterday - and sliced it evenly. He set the bread aside as the water started boiling and he carefully dropped the noodles into the pot, stirring them once they were all in the pot. He gave the sauce a quick stir, making sure the burner was on low, before walking to the living room again. Still no sign of Alpha Hale.

Stiles felt restless, shaking out his hands as they tingled. This is just like having anyone over, Stiles reminded himself, doesn’t matter that it’s Alpha Hale and he wants to court me.

The shhh of the boiling water had Stiles jumping, startled, and he raced back into the kitchen to find the pot of spaghetti noodles almost boiling over. He turned down the burner and stirred the noodles, relieved that they were not clumping together. He turned on the oven and buttered the bread with the garlic butter his dad had made, placing the bread evenly on a cookie sheet.

He heard his dad come into the kitchen and turned around to offer to get him something to drink only to find his dad already had a glass of water in his hand.

“I’m fine.” His dad said, looking him over critically. “How are you holding up?”

“Good.” Stiles answered before he had a chance to think about his response. His Alpha raised a questioning brow at him and Stiles took a moment to actually analyze how he was feeling.

There were nerves, and he was anxious to make a good impression on Alpha Hale, but he was surprisingly good. He nodded at his Alpha and smiled, he knew he could do this.

His dad walked over and ruffled his hair, a big smile on his face. “I’m going to the living room, you call if you need anything. I will answer the door when Peter gets here.”

Stiles nodded one more time and turned back around to mind the food as his dad walked out of the kitchen. He slipped the garlic bread into the oven as the spaghetti only needed two more minutes before it would be ready.

He grabbed the water jug out of the fridge and placed it on the table along with the bottle of wine. He pulled out the wine cork and placed it beside the wine. He stepped back and surveyed the table, taking note of everything. Looks good.

A knock sounded at the door just as Stiles was draining the water out of the spaghetti pot. He could hear his dad greeting Peter as he put the pot back on the stove added some butter to the noodles - his one true weakness when it came to spaghetti - and stirred the sauce one more time as he heard the Alpha’s enter the kitchen.

He turned around and flushed as he found himself the object of Alpha Hale’s stare. The Alpha smiled at him and Stiles could admit to feeling a little weak kneed.

“Hello Stiles.” Peter said, taking mind to not crowd the Omega.

Stiles smiled weakly at him. “Hi.”

“Stiles, would you like me to help you serve?” The Sheriff asked, smoothly stepping in between Stiles and Peter. Not that Peter was threatening Stiles, but he had found himself getting lost in that stare.

“No, you two sit down. I’ve got this.” He smiled at his dad, a silent thank you passing between them.

“Alright Peter, you’re sitting there.” The Sheriff told the other Alpha as he turned around and let Stiles handle the meal.

His dad engaged Peter in conversation and it allowed Stiles to take the bread out of the oven - perfectly crispy - and plate it. He brought it to the table, smiling as Peter and his dad thanked him, before turning back to plate the spaghetti.

He could feel his cheeks burning from the look Peter had given him. It was easier to accept the Alpha’s attention now the he knew Peter was not just trying to mess with him.

Stiles picked up a noodle and popped it into his mouth, grinning to himself at how good it tasted. Tried and true, this recipe would win over Alpha Hale in looks alone. The fact that it tasted just as good was icing.

He plated up the spaghetti and brought the individual plates to the table, smiling at the look of delight that crossed Peter’s face.

“This looks and smells amazing Stiles.” Peter smiled at him.

Stiles ducked his head and smiled, pleased.

“Just wait until you taste it.” The Sheriff said as he dug in, groaning at the first bite.

Always one to break the tension, Stiles laughed at this Alpha’s antics. Normally the Sheriff was not such an exaggerated eater but it did the trick of relaxing Stiles enough to start eating. Stiles noticed that Peter did not take a bite until he did and he smiled shyly at the Alpha when the man caught his eye.

Stiles watched as Peter slowly chewed. He waited with bated breath to hear Peter’s verdict, trying to hide his anxiety as he showed a forkful of spaghetti into his mouth.

“This is,” Peter started as he swallowed his first bite. “Without a doubt the best spaghetti I have ever had! Did you make these noodles from scratch?”

Stiles smiled and nodded, not wanting to talk with his mouth full of food. He felt himself fully relaxing as the meal progressed. Everything was going better than Stiles had expected and the relief of that was greater than he had originally thought it would be.

Though, admittedly, he had been expecting the worse. Images of ruining the food or accidentally spilling something on Alpha Hale had plagued his thoughts most of the day. The fact that none of that had happened allowed Stiles to truly be himself around the Alpha for the first time since their disastrous meeting weeks ago.

Peter asked about school and it was a safe topic which Stiles was grateful for. He was able to talk about his classes, glossing over his classmates and teachers, and instead sticking to projects and tests. If Peter noticed, he said nothing, and the talk progressed to sports.

The meal was easy in a way that it was when it was just Stiles and his dad. Others did not understand Stiles, thought he was lacking in some way, and Stiles could never seem to forget that they were constantly judging him. It was different with Alpha Hale.

Peter admitted to shortcomings and offered little anecdotes that had all three laughing. Even though Stiles knew Peter was courting him he did not feel pressured. He actually had hope.

The Sheriff cleaned up the dinner plates as Stiles pulled out the chocolate mousse and laughed as Peter exclaimed that he could not possibly be expected to eat dessert after he had gorged himself on two plates of spaghetti. Stiles teasingly tried to take away the bowl he had placed in front of the man and laughed as Peter grabbed it back with an affronted look on his face.

“I was merely kidding!” Peter laughed as he clutched his bowl tightly to his chest.

Stiles smiled at him, feeling almost fond, and served up his dad and himself. The dessert was quite sweet and Stiles made coffee for Peter and his dad, with a tea for himself, and they sat at the table talking until 10:30pm.

Stiles could not believe how late it was when he looked at the clock. He glanced at the two Alpha’s who were deep in conversation, hating to interrupt them but knowing he had to go to bed soon if he wanted to get enough sleep.

“I, uh, sorry. I actually need to head to bed.” Stiles broke through their conversation, ducking his shoulders as both Alpha’s turned to look at him.

“That’s alright Stiles. Thank you for dinner. I’ll do the dishes.” His dad smiled at him as he stood up and put all their dishes in the sink.

Stiles was going to say no, he could do the dishes, but Peter spoke up before he could.

“Thank you very much for having me Stiles. The spaghetti was amazing and your mousse was perfectly smooth and delicious.” Peter smiled at him and Stiles just knew he was blushing at the compliment.

“You’re welcome.”

He got up from the table and his dad pulled him in for a hug. It was warm and he returned it just as fiercely. His dad pressed a kiss to his forehead before turning him around to say one final goodbye to Alpha Hale.

Peter was standing up but he made not move closer to Stiles.

“Well goodnight. I guess I’ll see you next week?” Stiles asked, hands gripped together behind his back as he waited for the Alpha’s answer.

“Until then.” Peter smiled at him. “Goodnight Stiles.”

It all seemed a bit formal, the awkwardness that had not been present throughout the meal finally making an appearance but there was no helping it. Stiles nodded once at Peter before leaving the kitchen and making his way to his room.

He closed his bedroom door and leaned back against it, a big smile taking over his face. He felt giddy and warm all over.

Stiles got into bed already planning what he could feed Alpha Hale when he came next Wednesday. 


	6. Part 6

The rest of the week seemed to fly by for Stiles, the normal stresses of school only poking at the edges of his conscious. If being honest with himself, Stiles could admit that his thoughts were mainly focused on a certain Alpha.

There was a stigma in society that said Alpha’s reigned supreme and had no time for softer emotions. They were depicted as less understanding with a more ‘My way or the highway’ attitude.

Of course, those sentiments were only supported by pigheaded Alpha’s who were so set in their ways that anything that hinted at upsetting the routine was shut down firmly. More and more Beta’s and Omega’s were making names for themselves in the world, and being accepted as world changers.

It gave Stiles hope that one day his peers would see past his Omega nature and to the heart of him. Though that might just be wishful thinking.

Alpha’s such as his dad and Peter Hale leant evidence to the world evolving in positive ways, and it helped encourage Stiles on the bad days.

Peter, more so than his own Alpha, made Stiles hope. Alpha Hale had not been forced into proximity to Stiles due to familial relations and thus his almost unheard of understanding of Stiles and his  _ issues _ moved Stiles in ways that he found hard to express even to himself.

In fact, Alpha Hale’s understanding and continued want to court Stiles made the omega preen. Omega’s did not just submit at the first sign of a strong Alpha, no matter what the media would have one believe. The Alpha had to have qualities that spoke to the individual they were trying to court, and it did not always work out.

Stiles had heard of, and read, many a tale where an Alpha was turned down even when it seemed they were a perfect match to the Omega they were courting. Though Alpha’s did court Beta’s and other Alpha’s they were less well documented, usually being glossed over in favour of trumped up stories about Omega’s being so overwhelmed by Alpha prowess that they baser nature surged to the forefront.

It was all a bit offensive, being told one could not control their own nature. Sure certain traits made Alpha’s, Beta’s, and Omega’s react more strongly but that did not mean they lost their heads over it. It was no longer a viable excuse in courts to say one’s base nature overtook them and forced them to out act, at least when it came to outright violence. There was a bit more to it when instincts were driving one to protect rather than dominate.

That thought made Stiles pause, conjuring up ideas of what Alpha Hale would do to protect his Omega. Shivering at the decidedly gauche and naughty direction of images flashing in his mind, Stiles turned his thoughts to other things. Such as prom, which is only weeks away, and final exams.

He feels mostly prepared for the last exams he will take as a high school student. Studying has actually proven to be a useful tool in controlling his ADHD and anxiety, mind able to focus singularly on the task. The sense of accomplishment that he gets when he can correctly quiz himself on the material enough incentive to continuously push himself.

It also helps that it makes his dad proud. When all else has gone wrong Stiles has always been able to fall back on academics.

He sometimes gets feverishly manic in his researching, ending up devouring knowledge on things such as the history of the male circumcision when he originally started off looking for why clothes are mostly made up of cotton. It works though, is the point. Taking his mind off the anxieties that plague him day in and out.

He wonders what Alpha Hale would think of his constant need to learn things, almost to the exclusion of all else.

“Stiles!”

Stiles jolts from his thoughts and turns to his door as he hears his dad making his way up the stairs. The Alpha appears in his doorway moments later and Stiles cocks his head at him in silent inquiry to his dad’s shout.

“Peter is on the line for you. Are you free to take it or shall I tell him to call another day?”

“Oh um, okay.” Stiles reaches out for the phone.

He takes the phone but continues looking at his Alpha as the man does not turn to leave his room. The Sheriff is wearing his uniform and Stiles glances at the time, his dad will need to leave in about 45 minutes if he wants to make it to work on time.

“Lunch in 15. I want us to eat together before I leave for work.” His dad says, ruffling Stiles’ hair before leaving the room.

Stiles listens to his dad’s thumping steps down the stairs before putting the phone to his ear.

“Hello?” Stiles says, more question than he means for it to sound. Alpha Hale does not respond though Stiles can hear breathing through the line. “Hello?” He still does not receive a response and it prompts Stiles to pull the phone away from his ear to look at it.

He rolls his eyes as he notices the screen flashing  _ Mute _ before unmuting the phone and bringing it up to his ear again. “Hello.” He says confidently, smiling at himself when it comes out strong and clear.

“Hello Stiles.” Peter greets him warmly.

Stiles tries not to read into the tone of Peter’s voice, not allowing himself to think about why the Alpha sounds so happy. “Uh, how are you?” Stiles asks instead.

“I’m doing well.” Peter laughs. “Though the same cannot be said for my kitchen.”

“Your kitchen?” Stiles is so confused.

“Well, you see, I tried to replicate the lovely garlic bread you made for me on Wednesday but it seems I quite botched my attempt at it.” The Alpha explains, a hint of laughter ringing through again.

Stiles lets out a snort before clapping a hand over his mouth to stem the laughter that wants to burst it’s way out.

“Yes yes, I burnt it so badly it looks more like charcoal than bread. Laugh it up.” Peter growls at him but Stiles can still hear the amusement in the Alpha’s tone so he does not allow himself to get anxious over laughing.

“How long did you leave it in the oven for?” Stiles gasps out, almost breathless with his laughter.

“I don’t know, maybe 40 minutes?” Peter answers, sounding petulant.

“And how high did you have the oven?” Stiles bites his bottom lip to stymie himself from asking more questions.

“425 degrees.”

Stiles gapes in response. He really has no response to that that would not outright insult the Alpha.

“Too high?” Peter finally asks, breaking the silence.

“Yup.” Stiles snickers to himself at the sigh the Alpha lets out. “You know if you bought a pre-made one it comes with instructions on how to heat it up.” Stiles informs the Alpha, grinning to himself at the picture he had in his head.

No one person is good at everything, no matter that they may seem to be, and Stiles might just have found Peter’s weakness. It thrills him, deep down where he would never let anyone peek, that cooking is something he could do for Peter. He already knows that the Alpha enjoys his cooking and the knowledge that he could provide for Peter that way -- well let’s just say Stiles feels a pleasant hum deep in his belly.

“I tried to make it from scratch, hence no instructions to follow.” Peter says. “I think you’ve ruined me for any other kind of garlic bread.” Peter sighs.

Stiles smiles so wide his cheeks hurt and lets his courage shine through as he answers. “I could always make it for you again.”

There is silence on the other end of the phone and it momentarily makes Stiles panic that he was too forward. They had only just agreed to try courting after all.

“I would love that!”

Stiles can hear the smile Peter must be sporting because there is a lightness to his tone. It fills Stiles with warmth. It’s becoming apparent that he is more than just fascinated by Alpha Hale.

For someone so widely respected and sought after, it’s not all that hard talking to Alpha Hale. The man listens to him and gives due thought to everything that Stiles says. It was quite telling when Peter was over for dinner that his interest in Stiles was genuine and this phone call further proves it.

It’s not that Stiles did not believe in Peter’s want to court him but there was the honest thought that Peter would see the mistake he had made in pursuing the spastic Stilinski Omega. Stiles cannot doubt that Peter has heard many a things about him, especially is the Alpha has kept himself abreast of Stiles’ life even when away.

There’s only so much that being the Sheriff’s son can protect him and unfortunately Stiles’ history of getting in trouble at school - though he would not say it was his fault that his ADHD is only controlled so far and there is honestly not much he can do about his anxiety - means word spreads about the Omega more often than not. He probably gets talked about more just because he is the Sheriff’s son.

It’s a vicious cycle and Stiles unfortunately is right in the thick of it.

“Stiles? Are you still there?”

The questions jolt Stiles back to the present and he is mortified that his mind wandered while he was on the phone with the Alpha. He winces, ducking his head in shame.

“Sorry.” Stiles responds, for lack of anything else to say.

“There’s no need to apologize. Is everything alright?” Peter asks, concern lacing his voice.

“Yes, everything is fine. I just got lost in thought.” Stiles admitted.

Peter hummed. “Ah, well I’m glad there was nothing wrong. I must apologize and take my leave of you. Work calls unfortunately. I just wanted to share my adventures in cooking with you.”

Stiles would swear the Alpha winking when he said that last part but as they were talking on the phone there was no way to confirm it.

“Thanks for telling me, and feel free to tell me anytime about your adventures in cooking.” Stiles only hesitates a moment before offering, “Though next time you could always call me and I could help you through it.”

“You would be saving this Alpha’s stomach from many a burned meal so I will absolutely take you up on the offer!” Peter sounds genuine when he accepts and Stiles relaxes.

Stiles wonders if the Alpha knows that he is inadvertently passing a lot of Stiles’ checkmarks. It’s not that he wants to judge the Alpha but after bearing the brunt of his peer’s derision for so many years, it’s a built in defence mechanism that he has had to develop.

“Have a good time working.” Stiles whispers down the line, voice gone oddly shy.

“I will. I hope you have a wonderful day Stiles.” Peter’s voice is just as quiet. “Goodbye Stiles.”

Stiles feels flutters in his stomach at the way the Alpha says his name. “Goodbye Peter.”

He hangs up, resolutely trying to push the thought of whether or not the Alpha likes how Stiles says his name, before remembering that his dad was waiting downstairs for Stiles. Looking at the clock shows that Stiles only has 15 minutes to eat with his dad before the man has to go off to work.

He rushes down the stairs and slides into the kitchen to find the Sheriff seated calmly at the table, reading the newspaper. His dad glances up as Stiles slumps onto his chair at the table.

“Thanks for letting me talk to Peter.”

“Mhm, eat up.” The Sheriff tells him. They both tuck into the BLT’s that the Sheriff made for lunch.

It is only later, after his dad has left for work and Stiles is lounging on the couch watching Netflix - a reward to himself for studying - that he realises he was not all that nervous talking to Alpha Hale on the phone. Initially he had been but Peter’s conversation had flowed over him, relaxing Stiles in a way that he only ever has been when talking to his dad on the phone.

Stiles buries his face in a pillow as a flush creeps up his neck and cheeks. Alpha Hale is a great man.

* * *

 

Peter shows up promptly at seven on the following Wednesday and Stiles smiles as he lets the man into the house. As promised he brings nothing with him and Stiles smiles internally at that, knowing the Alpha must be itching to gift the Omega things but not doing so out of respect for Stiles’ wishes. It is a gift unto itself, Stiles thinks, but he doubts that Alpha Hale sees it that way.

“Dad just got home so he won’t be down for a few minutes, so if you want to sit in the living room and wait, I should be done with supper soon.” Stiles offers, gesturing for Peter to seat himself.

“I see.” Peter looks around the living room, turning his head away as he asks his question. “Would it be too much to ask to be allowed to sit in the kitchen while you finish up the meal?”

“Oh.” Stiles is stumped. On the one hand he wants to show off his cooking skills to the Alpha, but on the other hand being the focus of that intent gaze might be a bit much. “Yeah, okay. That’s, yeah, that’s fine.”

The smile Peter sends his way has the Omega nearly preening aloud but Stiles turns away before that happens. He walks into the kitchen, acutely aware of Peter just steps behind him.

Peter hums appreciatively. “Smells delicious.”

Stiles throws a smile over his shoulder at the man, relaxing minutely at the compliment, as he goes to check on the casserole. “It’s a rice casserole with chicken, an old family recipe.” Stiles explains as ducks down to look into the oven.

The cheese is browning nicely and once the Sheriff gets down Stiles knows the meal will be ready to serve. The table is set and the dessert is cooling - brownies today - so Stiles turns back to watch Alpha Hale.

“I have not had rice casserole in ages. Does it call for cream of mushroom soup?” Peter asks.

Stiles bestows a smile upon Alpha Hale. “Yup and I made it from scratch because I find there’s nothing quite like homemade soup.”

“From scratch? Might I have the recipe? I would love to try making it someday.”

Stiles tried to stop the laughter that bubbled up but he let it out in loud gasps. He was so overcome by his amusement that he could not even stop to worry about the offense he could be giving Alpha Hale at the moment. Any anxiety that might have cropped up was swiftly shut down when he heard laughter roaring from Peter.

The Alpha’s head was thrown back in laughter and it gave Stiles the chance to observe the long expanse of Peter’s neck as Stiles’ own laughter died down. Peter’s veins protruded slightly and the muscles bulged nicely.

As a werewolf Peter might have a thing for necks, Stiles did not know, but even he could see the appeal. He had never felt overly attracted to anyone, sexually or otherwise, but Stiles had always had a fascination for the great Alpha Hale.

Dreamed when he was younger of awing the Alpha in one way or another because really, what omega did not want to grab the man’s attention?

“Would that be alright?” The Alpha reiterated, snapping Stiles back to the present.

“S-sorry.” Stiles stuttered. “Of course I will give you the recipe.” He turned away to get it, slipping out of the kitchen to go photocopy it in his dad’s office.

Too often he found his thoughts floating away while in the Alpha’s presence and Stiles berated himself for it. Already the impression Peter had of him was not favourable, no matter that Alpha Hale still wanted to court him, and Stiles kept showing the Alpha that he really was not the best Omega out there.

_ Stupid stupid stupid. _

A cough at the door pulled Stiles from his thoughts and he turned to see his dad in the doorway. “Everything all right, son?”

“You know, jitters.” Stiles said in lieu of a real answer, shaking out his hands.

For a long moment the Sheriff did not reply, instead letting his gaze rove over Stiles - assessing. “Okay, you take your time. I will keep our guest busy.” With that, his dad smiled at him and left for the kitchen.

The knowledge that he could take a few minutes to compose himself helped take away some of Stiles’ nerves but it did not relax him fully. He felt overly hot and itchy, and none of the breathing exercises were helping.

Shaking out his arms and pacing, Stiles tried to analyze why he felt so worked up all of a sudden. It was not because he suddenly felt inadequate for Alpha Hale, that thought was always foremost in his brain in interactions with the Alpha - this was something more.

A cold sweat broke out along the back of Stiles’ neck and along his forehead and every breath he took in felt like he was breathing in water. The air was heavy, oppressive.

Stiles’ wiped the back of his hand under his nose and his hand came away wet with sweat, his hand also tingling from the contact of skin on skin. Staring at his hand, he tried to rub away the tingling on the back of his hand but the contact only seemed to make it worse.

He stumbled his way to the door and made his way to the kitchen. He was so parched, he desperately needed to chug back some water. His focus was so single minded that he did not notice the looks of concern that his dad and Alpha Hale were giving him as he retrieved a glass and went to the sink to fill it up with water.

He finished the water in three large gulps and refilled his glass another two times before he finally felt like he had had enough to drink. Gasping for air, he placed the cup in the sink and braced himself against the edge of the counter, letting his head hang into the sink.

He felt like he was going to be sick.

“Stiles?”

Stiles turned around, annoyed that he only seemed to hear his name said in concern recently. Both his dad and Peter were standing, as if they had got up and walked towards him but stopped themselves, unsure if he needed any kind of help or comfort.

“I’m fine.” Stiles said, stressing each word. He needed, well, he needed something but paramount was to go lie down.

Alpha Hale seemed to be sniffing at the air and it dawned on Stiles that he had forgotten about the casserole. A faint smell of burning reached his nose just before he hurried over to the oven, ignoring the growing unease in his stomach. A small black cloud escaped as Stiles opened the oven and he sniffed.

Stiles was ashamed to admit that tears were gathering in his eyes. First he felt horribly ill but then he also had to go and ruin dinner? That was unacceptable.

Unthinking, Stiles reached his hand into the oven.

“No!” The gasp sounded out behind Stiles.

Stiles’ hand was just reaching for the casserole dish when strong arms pulled him back into a firm body. Though the heat of the oven was still a hot spot before him all Stiles could feel was the furnace-like heat at his back as Alpha Hale held him tightly.

“Stiles? Stiles are you okay?” His dad appeared in front of him, worry in his eyes. He grabbed Stiles’ face in both hands and looked searchingly at his face.

Stiles stared numbly at his dad as the man dropped his hands from Stiles’ face only to grab onto Stiles’ hands and check them over for burns. They were not burned as Peter had been fast enough to save Stiles from injury but the Sheriff needed to be sure.

“I don’t-” Peter started to say something but cut himself off. Stiles felt the Alpha lean in and take a deep breath at Stiles’ hairline.

Stiles was able to vaguely think about how gross he must smell what with the amount he was sweating. He was horrified to find he was right when Peter suddenly, though gently, pushed Stiles into the Sheriff’s arms and backed away quickly. Stiles whined, mortified that he had repulsed the Alpha and because his stomach gave a lurch.

He did not feel well.

“Stiles is in heat.”

The words seemed to float through his brain, hovering just out of reach of making sense. He was sweating worse now, his body going into overdrive it felt like. Stiles gasped for air, not sure if at any moment he would puke or pass out.

“Shit. With the meds--the doctors said--damnit. I’m going to get him to a heat clinic.”

Stiles curled in closer to his dad, looking for warmth as he suddenly felt unbearably cold. He panicked when he felt the floor fall away from him until he realised that his dad must have picked him up.

Stiles could not make heads nor tails of his surroundings. The lights seemed to flare so brightly that they drowned out everything, almost as if he had stood looking into the sun. He squeezed his eyes shut and whimpered as something heavy was draped over him. He did not want to be trapped, he wanted to be free. Stiles struggled futilely to remove the object, getting a grunt from his dad for his efforts.

“Stiles, honey, stop. I know you don’t feel well but you’re in heat. I’m taking you to the clinic. You will feel better, just hold on.” 

The words seemed to vibrate right through Stiles, the sensation like needles prickling his skin. He tried to shy away but his arms felt too heavy to move. All he could do was cry. Nothing felt right; he just wanted to sleep.

Minutes, maybe hours, later Stiles was strapped into something and all he knew was the bumping of his body. He was able to ascertain that he was in a car but that was the last coherent thought he had.

* * *

 

Everything was a blur and Stiles would later not remember his dad carrying him into the heat clinic and securing him a room for the next two weeks. A precaution the Sheriff felt it necessary to take as the heat was coming on all wrong.

The Sheriff could only watch on, distressed, as Stiles thrashed around on the bed in his private room. When the doctors had pulled open his eyelids, Stiles’ pupils had been blown. His son was completely incoherent, seeing every person as his enemy.

Only the Sheriff had been able to get close without Stiles was attacking but the doctors did not let him stay. It was not safe for Stiles to be around anyone other than other Omega’s in that moment, even though the Sheriff was his father.

Stiles was already going to experience an extremely hard heat as it was his first one, delayed because of the medication he was on for his ADHD and anxiety. It was a side effect and the doctors had explained in detail - to both Stiles and the Sheriff - what the consequences would be should they choose to keep Stiles on the meds anyway.

Of course he and Stiles had sat down and had a long chat over it, deciding that controlling the ADHD and anxiety was first and foremost. They would deal with heats once Stiles reached maturity.

Of course, neither of them could have predicted this outcome. The Sheriff had a few ideas as to what could have caused this sudden onset of Stiles’ heat but those thoughts were for later.

Right now Stiles’ health was paramount and since he was not allowed in to see his son, the Sheriff went in search of the doctors. He had to give them a run down of Stiles’ history and see what they said.

They would take this one day at a time.


	7. Part 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first part of this chapter may seem a bit jumbled and that is because it is told from Stiles' perspective and since he is in heat, it's not the most coherent of thoughts.

Stiles felt like he was floating in a hot bath, bubbles rising up and popping against his body causing him to feel itchy all over. He tried to wade through it, tried to swim to shore but he could never quite make it.

Instinctually Stiles knew he was experiencing his very first heat, years passed when all of his classmates had had their first heats and ruts, but his did not feel like all of their descriptions. He did not feel an overwhelming urge to look for a sexual release.

No, he felt the need to jump into a cool bath. He felt the need to purge his body of the illness spreading through him.

His heat felt exactly like he had the flu.

Stiles had intermittent periods of lucidity, usually when the nurses and doctors came in to check on him. They reassured him with quiet words that he was doing well all the while wiping away his sweat with cold cloths.

Stiles missed his dad.

Stiles missed Alpha Hale.

He had very vivid dreams of snuggling up to the Alpha, burrowing into the man’s embrace and scenting him until all Stiles could smell was their combined scent. A few times the Omega thought he sensed the Alpha nearby but he was always just out of reach. It was frustrating because Stiles knew that Peter would be able to soothe the pain forever present low in his stomach - the one the doctors told Stiles would go away if only he just listened to his body.

They did not seem to understand that he _was_ listening to his body. 

He did not want sex. He felt no need to masturbate - something the nurses kept telling him it was alright to do, even if they were there. 

He wanted to puke and snuggles, in that order. He wanted strong arms wrapped around him and keeping him safe. He wanted a cool bath.

It did not matter how many times he asked for Alpha Hale he was always denied. 

_“I know you want him but your father has told us you’re not at that stage yet which is why you’re here. It’s perfectly normal to want an Alpha for your heats. For now though you can make use of any sex aids in the room to help you.”_ They tried to reassure him but none of the doctors or nurses actually listened.

Stiles did not want sex; he wanted comfort.

Days passed with no help. Stiles cried out but all his pleas went unheeded. Why was no one listening to him?

During the bouts of lucidity Stiles planned. Instinct drove him further, taking rational thought and twisting it in such a way that Stiles’ idea made complete sense.

It would work. _It had to_.

The nurses came to check on him twice a day to make sure the IV had not come out and that Stiles had not injured himself. Like he would, he wasn’t lust driven. 

No, the ache he felt steadily growing in his stomach was for something far surpassing lust. It called for the Alpha he had only known a short time, for their home out in the forest, for the safety of isolation.

These strangers were making him crazy.

He had to escape. He would. When the next nurse came in Stiles would make execute his plan. 

All he had to do was lay back, pretend to be sleeping. It was an easy thing to do when half of him only wanted sleep. The darkness calling to him, telling him to close his eyes and fall into it’s dark embrace. His breaths grew deeper and he smiled.

_No!_ Sleep was not allowed. He was only to pretend.

The door creaked open as Stiles internally berated himself but it was the distraction he needed from his own mind. The nurse walked in, humming quietly to himself as he checked Stiles’ IV.

The only hitch in Stiles’ plan was the fact that the door was key operated. All the nurses and doctors had to swipe the access card to get in and out of the room. A precautionary measure so that crazed Omega’s could not escape but also so that pheromone driven Alpha’s could not get in.

It was an effective method, Stiles could absently see the good of it, but he was not sex crazed. He was driven by something even more compelling. The _need for comfort_.

Stiles hypothesized in his lucid moments that an Omega driven by the need of finding somewhere safe, the need for comfort, was more deadly than an Omega driven by the need to mate. For Stiles had his mind intact, knew he was experiencing his heat, but was able to plan and break through the blanket of ill that swamped him.

Anything standing in his way did not stand a chance.

Stiles sat up quickly, surprising the nurse, before shooting his hand out to wrap around the other Omega’s neck. Stiles had been forced to take self defence when he was younger and it held him in good stead now as he quickly and efficiently put the nurse in a headlock and cut off his airways until he passed out.

He tutted at the Omega before gently laying him out on the bed. The nurse should have listened and Stiles would not have had to resort to this.

He giggled to himself as he snatched the access key from the nurse’s pocket and walked to the door. Stiles swiped the card and yanked at the door, frowning when it did not immediately open. He glanced at the key card, he was holding it wrong. Swiping it a second time, Stiles managed to get the door open and he peeked out into the hallway.

He could not see anyone but he did see an exit sign at the end of the hallway. That was good, he wanted to exit. He edged out of his room and make sure to close the door before tiptoeing towards the door.

Halfway there he was hit with a wave of nausea and had to bend over, bracing his hands on his knees as he breathed deeply in and out. There was a faint scent that prodded at his memories but it was not the smell he was looking for.

Stiles is not sure how long the nausea forced him to be motionless but he moved on as soon as it passed. That was not a good sign, it meant that sooner rather than later he would lose himself to his heat mind.

He had to make it before that happened.

He stumbled to the door, one hand holding his stomach as the ache started growing again, and nearly fell down the stairs when the door proved to be lighter than he had anticipated. Stiles grabbed onto the railing and carefully made his way down to the main floor. He thanked his lucky stars when he reached the bottom as there was another door marked with an exit sign above it.

He pushed the door open and winced at the bright sun. His room had been pleasantly dark and the sun was a jarring obstacle. He whined and tried to cover his head, the light piercing.

“Stiles?”

Stiles growled and peeked out under his arm.

“Stiles, what are you doing?”

Stiles kept growling, squinting as he tried to make out the person making their way closer to him. He was prepared to fight them off if need be to get where he needed to be. The person was getting closer and Stiles still could not make out who it was, his eyes watering and his mind flickering in and out.

A sudden breeze brought to him the scent of the person in front of him and he felt himself relaxing. “Alpha.” He smiled and stepped forward to meet the man.

“Stiles, you should not be out here.” His Alpha admonished but Stiles was too busy nuzzling into the man’s chest to care about what he was saying. “I need to get you back inside.”

Stiles growled out at that and brought his arms up to clasp at the Alpha’s neck. “No.” Stiles shook his head. “Need you, hold me.” Stiles said through clenched teeth. He could feel himself dropping.

He was finally where he needed to be and his body was telling him to let go, that his Alpha would catch him and take care of him but Stiles had to make sure.

“Please, take me with you.” Stiles pleaded, managing to blink yellow eyes up at red ones.

Alpha Hale sighed and growled, scooping Stiles up and the Omega smiled and let himself drop into oblivion once more.

 

* * *

Peter frowned down at the Omega bundled up in his arms. Stiles’ smell was stale and overridden by foreign Omegas and sickness. He smelled sour and upset.

Peter’s heart ached at the obvious evidence of neglect surrounding his, hopefully soon to be, Omega. The ache soon blossomed into anger but he tempered it when Stiles started frowning. He would not add to the Omega’s distress but he was hit with a conundrum.

It was clear that Stiles could not go back into the clinic but Peter was just as reluctant to take him to his father’s house. Peter knew it was his Alpha instincts urging him along, telling him to take the Omega home with him and give Stiles whatever he wanted.

It was only by happenstance that Peter was even at the clinic. He had been going for coffee across the street, a new routine he had implemented a week ago (when a certain someone was admitted to the heat clinic conveniently located across the street) when he had caught sight of his Omega.

He watched for only a moment as Stiles stumbled around the alley, clutching at his stomach, before carefully making his way towards the Omega. Peter was completely unsure of the reception he would receive, so he stepped cautiously towards Stiles all the while calling his name.

He had smiled when his Omega had started growling, a fierce sound that made Peter proud, and tamped down on his urge to answer the growl with one of his own. It would not do to potentially come across as a threat.

Peter was not expecting Stiles to suddenly smile and launch himself at Peter, but the Alpha caught the Omega nonetheless and tried to reason that Stiles should go back inside. Stiles made his thoughts on the subject clear before passing out after Peter picked him up

And that was how Peter now found himself cradling his passed out Omega and completely unsure of what to do next.

Peter debated with himself for a second before walking back towards his car and gently placing Stiles in the back seat. He closed the door after making sure Stiles was buckled in before pulling out his phone to call the Sheriff.

“Hello Peter.” The Alpha answered on the second ring.

“Sheriff, not to alarm you but we seem to have a problem. I was getting coffee at Bean Me Up when I spotted Stiles outside across the street.” Peter explained.

The Sheriff swore. “Is he alright?”

“Honestly? I’m not sure. He wasn’t very coherent before he passed out. He smells sour and upset. He absolutely did not want to go back inside.” Peter said, pausing before deciding that he needed to finish his thought. “He smells a bit like neglect.” Peter admitted.

“WHAT?” The Sheriff yelled down the line and Peter winced. “Damnit, I hoped this would not happen.”

“You hoped what would not happen?”

Peter waited as the Sheriff sighed. It sounded like the other Alpha was pacing.

“I was not sure but a few years ago I think Stiles went through a heat.” The Sheriff explained but Peter butted in before he could continue.

“What do you mean, a few years ago? Doesn’t Stiles have a heat every month, if not every other?”

“No. Due to his medication the doctors told us it was likely Stiles either would never have a heat or would not experience them regularly if he did.”

Peter said nothing as he let that information sink in. It was true that his company was doing research into making safer ADHD medication for Omega’s but he did not think the one’s on the market were as bad for Omega’s as he is apparently being told they are.

“A few years ago, though, Stiles came home from school sick. He said he thought he had the flu but it smelled _off_ somehow. He was really clingy and never actually vomited though he had a high fever for about a week and was very touch dependent.” The Alpha explained. “I was never sure because he did not show the typical signs of an Omega in heat but I had my suspicions. I had hoped this one would be different if only because it seems to have hit him harder than last time but from what the doctors have been telling me, this heat is exactly like the one he had previously.”

“So because his heat is not the norm they have been neglecting him?” Petr asked, voice simmering with growing rage. 

“My son is asexual, Peter. The reason I did not know he was in heat all those years ago was because he never once smelled like it. I thought this time might be different because of his medication but also because of his close proximity to you recently but I was wrong.”

Peter growled. “And? That does not excuse the clinic’s behaviour! If I could smell that he was upset and neglected from across a parking lot surely the staff of nurses and doctors should have been able to smell it when in closed quarters with him.” Peter started pacing, eyes glued to the sleeping Omega in the backseat of his car.

“I cannot in good conscience take Stiles back into the clinic. He asked me to take him with me and while everything in me is urging me to do just that, I will bring him home to you if that is what you would like.” Peter growled out around his fangs. He wanted to march into that clinic and give them a piece of his mind but he would never leave his Omega alone while he was vulnerable.

Later, though, he would fix the wrong that had been done to Stiles.

“Yes, please bring him home. I will call the clinic and tell them what has happened. I will also be opening up an investigation into how it is possible that my son was able to escape and once Stiles’ heat is over we will ask him about what he remembers. If he does smell of neglect then clearly the clinic has some explaining to do.”

That was not the answer Peter wanted to hear but he respected the other Alpha’s authority and shelved his anger for now. He got into his car and just sat for a moment, breathing in the scent of Stiles and noticing how already the Omega’s smell seemed calmer. 

Peter could still smell the heat on him and the sour smell but his wolf was no longer on edge as their perceived Omega no longer smelled upset. He sighed as he started the car and headed for the Sheriff’s home.

He wanted nothing more than to take the Omega to his own house and up to his room where Peter had been subconsciously nesting. It was not unheard of for an Alpha to prepare their home for a future Omega but Peter had thought he was above all that, that he was in control of his nature.

Apparently Stiles turned his control on its head but Peter found it hard to be upset by that. He glanced in his rearview mirror and smiled at his Omega.

It was not long before he reached the Sheriff’s house and was glad to see the Alpha standing on the front lawn waiting for them. Though Peter had amazing self control he could feel himself slipping. Being surrounded by the Omega’s smell had had him fighting the urge to kidnap Stiles and take him home. To keep Stiles safe and protected in his house where Peter could care for him.

Soon, he hoped to make that a reality but for now he was still courting the Omega and he would not do Stiles the disservice of giving anything but one hundred percent of himself. Stiles deserved the world and Peter was prepared to give it to him or tear down the world trying.

Too many instances he had heard of the Omega being wronged, petty whispers of insecure people trying to make themselves feel better. It had enraged him and Peter had gone about destroying careers where he could but it was not enough.

Stiles needed to see his own worth, to see the Omega that Peter had seen all those years ago - the little Omega who had made Peter feel the need to be better - and Peter would never stop trying even if in the end Stiles did not agree to be his mate. Stiles had profoundly changed Peter’s life and he hoped to be able to return the favour - wanted to just bask in the light that was Stiles for the rest of his life even if all he could ever call Stiles was friend.

He parked the car and gingerly pulled Stiles out of the backseat, turning around to hand the Omega over to his father. The Sheriff smiled gratefully.

“Thank you, Peter. I imagine that was not easy for you.” The Alpha nodded and turned with Stiles in his arms.

Peter watched as the Sheriff made his way up the front steps and paused before stepping through the open door. “If Stiles is amenable, I will allow you to come and spend some time with him tomorrow. If last time is anything to go by all he will want is to cuddle. Maybe bring a spare shirt or sweater of yours for him to wear. I’ll let you know tomorrow morning.”

Peter bit his tongue to keep from growling out loud. He sincerely hoped Stiles wanted him around and the thought of the Omega wearing his clothes, it made Peter rumble.

He got back into his car, taking a moment to bask in Stiles’ unique scent hidden under his heat scent and finally turned the car and and drove home. He quickly changed into some comfier clothes. If his Omega wanted to wear his clothes, Peter would make sure they were saturated in his scent first.

It was nearing 10:30pm when Peter got a text from the Sheriff. Stiles wanted to see him tomorrow. This time Peter did not contain his growl, letting it reverberate throughout his body as he grinned to himself.

Other than this afternoon, tomorrow would be the first real time Peter would get to hold Stiles. He had had dreams of it, him and Stiles snuggled up outside in his hammock or curled up together in the middle of the forest.

Sure some of his dreams ventured towards snuggling with less clothing on but if his Omega was indeed asexual then Peter had no problem keeping clothes on. He would do _anything_ for Stiles.

Peter went to bed that night with a smile on his face and anticipation in his heart.


	8. Part 8

When Stiles woke up the next morning, it took him some seconds to recall where he was. Trickles of memories teased at his brain as he came awake, brain still fuzzy with sleep and heat. 

He was happy to be home, surrounded by his scent and his dad’s - the only thing missing would be Alpha Hale’s scent mixed up in it all. Stiles could not complain though as he remembered being wrapped up in strong arms, cared for and snuggled tight. It had been perfect.

He still feels achy and itchy but it is like all the air has been let out of him, his body lax and unable to move on the bed. And it was good, except even at home he felt alone.

“Daddy?” He called out, voice small and rusty. He remembers vaguely snuggling with his father the night before, and conversations but the words spoken seem to have escaped his brain at some point. He opens his mouth to call out again but ends up coughing instead. His mouth is so dry.

“I’m here.”

Stiles looks over at his bedroom door and smiles blearily up at his dad. He feels the itchiness fade away as the calming scent of his Alpha father invades the room. This is what he was missing at the clinic.

The comforting warmth and familiarity, the safety, of the Alphas in his life.

He loses a bit of time because the next thing he knows he is snuggled up on the couch with his father, his favourite blanket, and a glass of water is being pressed to his lips. He is thirsty so it is only natural to grasp the cup and slurp down gulps of water.

Stiles grins up at his dad. He is the best. Such a good Alpha. Stiles nuzzles into his father’s jaw, rumbling contentedly when another smell hits him.

He perks up as he recognizes the smell, Alpha Hale.

Stiles closes his eyes and sucks in a big breath and turns his head towards the source. He keeps taking big breaths, each lungful of Alpha Hale’s scent like a cool breeze blowing through his overheated body.

Every instinct in Stiles was telling him to get up and follow the scent to the source but at the same time he wanted to be found. Alpha Hale was courting him, so Alpha Hale should have to find him. 

He grinned to himself as he burrowed behind his father’s back, giggling when he received a kiss on the top of his head. It was nice and warm and he could feel a purring trill working it’s way up his throat.

Stiles could feel the vibrations in his father’s back which meant the Alpha was talking. Stiles wondered who he could be talking to until he smelled that lovely scent again, _Alpha Hale._

Stiles could feel the noise he had been holding back building and building, wanting to burst forth but Stiles knew right then was not the time. He had to wait, wait until it was the right time to let the noise out.

Right now Stiles needed to focus on getting through his heat and that meant getting pulled into strong arms and held close.

He nosed at his father’s back and leaned into the hand that he felt touch his hand, growling when he felt his father’s heat leaving him.

“Nooo.” He whined, reaching out to grab at his dad. He had been comfy. Except he did not have to wait long for the heat to return, but this time it was Alpha Hale’s soothing scent wrapping around him.

Alpha Hale sat exactly where the Sheriff had but Stiles did not want that. He wanted proper snuggles. Stiles opened his mouth to tell Alpha Hale what he wanted but apparently the Alpha just knew because he picked the Omega up and situated Stiles onto his lap.

Stiles rumbles some more in delight and snuggled his way closer to Alpha Hale. It prompts Alpha Hale to growl lowly in response and hug him tighter.

This is what Stiles had been missing in the clinic. This sense of closeness and comfort, the touch of a trusted Alpha. It was absolutely perfect.

Stiles felt his eyelids drooping and instead of fighting it, he allowed himself to drop off to sleep to the sounds of his Alpha and Alpha Hale talking.

* * *

Peter smiled down at his Omega fell asleep curled up on his lap. Every second from the moment Peter had walked into the house had been full of moments he knew he would not forget. The look in his Omega’s eyes, completely happy; the smell permeating the house, mouth watering and fulfilling; the sounds his Omega was releasing, full of contentment and come hither notes.

The Alpha had stayed motionless by the entrance, taking in the sight of father and son on the couch. There was clear paternal love in the Sheriff’s gaze as he looked at his son but Peter could also detect the strain around the older Alpha’s eyes.

The two Alphas clearly needed to have a talk concerning the clinic but Peter knew that would have to wait until after Stiles’s heat was over. While both men were stressed and worried about the events surrounding Stiles being where he currently was, the more important thing is taking care of Stiles.

The Omega was completely oblivious to the world, at ease in slumber. Peter leaned down and inhaled the comforting scent of the younger man. Peter could smell the ripe Omega scent that Stiles was giving off but there was no urgency to it. Peter could feel an answering arousal coursing through himself but it was so far down, as if his instincts could tell that that was not was his Omega _needed_ , that it was nothing at all for the Alpha to ignore.

“I’m just going to run to the office to grab some paperwork as I’ll be working from home until Stiles’s heat is over.” The Sheriff finally spoke up. He had seated himself on the armchair across from the couch and sat observing Peter and Stiles. “I trust you Alpha Hale but this is my son. I need your word that you will keep him safe.”

Peter nodded. “I promise to keep Stiles safe.” Unspoken was the acknowledgement that Peter would lay down his life for the Omega currently snuggled up on his lap if it came to that. The fact that Stiles wanted Peter at the house, wanted Peter near him during such a vulnerable time, spoke volumes and Peter would do nothing to jeopardize that.

Especially when Peter had spent years making something of himself for this very Omega.

The Sheriff stood up and surveyed them for a moment before taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. “Thank you.” He nodded as he walked towards the front door.

As the sound of the door closed it hit home for Peter that he was truly alone with his Omega for the first time since the disaster of an evening the other week. When Stiles had left that night, carried in the Sheriff’s arms, Peter had seriously despaired of ever being given another chance.

He prided himself on keeping a calm, cool, collected head during all situations but the little Omega left him wrong footed and tongue tied. Even though Peter hated that nothing was really going according to plan with Stiles, he readily admitted to himself that it was exhilarating. Stiles was vibrant and vivacious, challenging the Alpha in ways that Peter found he was looking forward to.

“Alpha?”

Peter focused his attention back on Stiles, smiling fondly down at the glazed blissed out look that the Omega was giving him - Peter could completely relate. “Yes little one?”

“Water please.”

Even in the throes of his heat Stiles still managed to be polite. Peter could feel a warmth that had nothing to do with the pheromones floating around the room blooming in him. “Of course.” He grabbed the glass from the coffee table where the Sheriff had left it and brought it carefully to the Omega’s lips.

As Stiles sipped at the water it struck Peter that he could feel their potential bond throbbing. He was not sure if it had anything to do with Stiles being in heat or if it was because the Omega was growing to trust Peter, but whatever the reason Peter could only be grateful for it. He knew that he and Stiles were perfect for each other but he would not push.

Stiles would come to him and bond with him when he was ready and not a moment sooner.

“I’m going to protect you and _love_ you for the rest of your life Stiles. Whether or not we complete the bond. If all you will allow me is to be your friend, then I accept.” He whispered into the Omega’s ear as Stiles nuzzled into his chest.

He knew that Stiles would not be able to understand what Peter was saying but he needed to say it anyway. It was a promise he intended to keep.

The Sheriff came back not much later and they spent the rest of the day caring for Stiles. The Omega was docile and only wanted to please them, so it was very easy to get him to eat and drink and sleep. Both Alphas were much happier to have Stiles in a safe space where they could care for him personally.

Stiles was happier too and his happy pheromones filled the Stilinski house. Peter could only hope that one day the same smell would permeate his own home.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think.
> 
> ~ M


End file.
